Abnegation
by Blouper
Summary: "There's a 98% chance we'll get caught. A scientist must try any and all possibilities no matter how slim the chance of success." Kowalski and Marlene. On rejection. Friendship. Others.
1. Chance

Tittle: abnegation

Summary: "There's a 98% chance we'll get caught. A scientist has to try any and all possibilities no matter how slim the chance of success." Kowalski and Marlene. On rejection. [Friendship. Others implied.]

Rating: T+. (I can't justify the rating, but I'd rather be on the safe side.)

Warnings: None, I think. Unless cross-species romance squicks you?

A/N: The good thing about having younger siblings is that you can watch cartoons and no one asks you why. The bad thing is that you can probably only watch half of said cartoon. This is one of those rare shows that makes me laugh every single time I watch an episode. Inspired by Marlene and Kowalski's weird dork-ish interactions. Unbeta-ed.

I'm unsure of this fic, I don't know where I was going with this. Marlene/Kowalski sort of friendship. The breakdown and rebuilding of another.

[Standard disclaimers apply.]

* * *

Chapter 1: Chance

It started with an idiotic idea that popped into her head (stupid really, because she has no impulse control with things that she enjoys. She's an otter of action, she needs the adrenaline, needs to keep moving, needs to do things or else she'll feel stuck, but then her brain disconnects from common sense and she's doing things she really shouldn't be).

No. It's not an idea, it's a necessity. She saw it, saw it in action, it was cool, it was exhilarating (it was painful to watch it crash), she just needed one little ride in it. Just once. That's how she made up her mind to convince Kowalski to give her a joyride in their car.

Soon she'll realize it was truly an idiotic idea.

--

Marlene devices a quick, effortless plan, now all she needs is to put in action. With that thought, she glides into the penguin's habitat as casually as possible, though her stomach was turning on itself from nerves.

The first penguin she sees is Skipper. He raises an eyebrow at her, expectantly, "Marlene." She shakes her head at the bland greeting, she should never expect more than that, Silly Little Otter.

"Skipper, hi." She tries for a charming smile. Everyone seems to buy it.

"How can we be of assistance?" Skipper makes his way over to her with a hint of smugness she had learned to accept (kind of, because sometimes she still found herself rolling her eyes at him), and it's not like she really wants to read too much into it. She does. A little. She shouldn't.

"Actually," Marlene feels like she needs to lay it thick, to smile as cute and honestly and _naively_, as possible since Skipper was a walking, breathing, talking radar for lies and he doesn't trust her all that much (she should not take that personally, but she does. A little. She shouldn't), "I need to talk to Kowlaski."

The four penguins stop for a second and stare at her, she hears paper rip, and when she looks over to Kowalski, he's frozen in confusion.

"Oh." Skipper says skeptically. She doesn't blame him but in the back of her mind, Marlene does anyway, because, because. Aren't they friends?

"Me?" Kowalski is still paralyzed on his corner which amuses her a little. When he notices her amusement he flinches and hurriedly flips through his notebook actively avoiding her stare.

"Yea," she smiles wider, hopes it's warm and that Kowalski will look over and relax, "Just for a minute."

"Um," careful of her gaze Kowalski fixes his eyes over to Skipper, (he's still staring at her with sharp awareness, and if she's not careful she'll step on a landmine and then this whole thing will blow up in her face).

"Go ahead." Skipper assents, finally, forehead drawn in suspicion.

When Kowalski walks past Skipper she hears, "Watch yourself, Kowalski."

As if she was a real threat (oddly, she's flattered. A little, just a little, because. Aren't they friends?)

--

Marlene drags Kowalski to her place, even though it was not necessary, but she feels it's necessary anyway--uses her front door as it's function deemed-- and asks him to sit.

He does, automatically. Trained, and mechanically. He has wide eyes she would mistake for fear if she wasn't so sure he was surprised at the weirdness of the entire thing. His eyes quickly narrow as she regards him carefully.

"How can I be of assistance, Marlene." Read: what do you want?

"Okay, you'll _love _me for this Kowalski," later, much later, Marlene would look back at this particular conversation and think _famous last words, Marlene,_ "I can get you a date with Dorris."

"Dorris?" His face breaks into a wide grin, and this dumb, stupid smile is something she imitates without meaning to, and then suddenly she feels a little dirty for suggesting the thing in the first place--and, and she's feeling a bit guilty too, since there are ulterior motives underneath this all, and that's not really fair no matter how freakin' amazing it would be to go wild in that car of theirs.

But that car is _really _cool.

So she nods shoving her guilty emotions aside, "That's right, Dorris the dolphin."

"But Dorris would never..." then he's suddenly very sober and serious, and looks at her with something akin to cautious doubt.

"What are your conditions."

"Well..."

"State your terms, Marlene." he says a bit harshly which only means he's almost about to agree with her.

"Let me ride in your car." She says scurrying so her face is almost pressed against his, taking him by surprise (trick of the trade: unbalance your target, easier to push your demands).

Kowalski pulls back swiftly, "What?"

"The car! The car! Look, I could ask Skipper..." she feels like her face betrays her when he stares at her coldly and expectantly, and understandingly so she sits back a bit because suddenly she's the one off-kilter, "I could ask Skipper, but he'll say no--"

"How can you be sur--"

"He will." It's Marlene's turn to stare at him. He's smart, he can figure this one out. He nods once, nearly imperceptably. She lets a breath out, (she didn't know she was holding it, but she was, and she's not about to read too much into that).

"Rico would be easy to tric--er--I mean I can ask him, but he's too much of a loose canon, no finesse. We could get in a lot of trouble. Or he could cause a lot of trouble. And, and Private. He would never be able to really keep this to himself."

"True. Private is aware that Skipper lik--" Kowalski stops himself sharply, like he's changing gears. He stares at her with that weird stare of his again, "Skipper will have my head if he finds out."

"That's why I am asking _you _so _he _never finds out."

"But-"

"Please! Just once around the zoo. You get a date with Dorris and I'll never ask for something like this ever again."

His brows raise, surprised, "Really?"

"...Maybe. What do you say?"

He taps his notebook rhythmically looking torn, just another little push and he'll agree, "Live dangerously, Kowalski. Just this once. You and me, no one needs to know."

"But, Skippe--"

"Please?"

For a second he hesitates, holds out his notebook and pencil and sets to scribbling furiously. Just as she starts leaning to peek at his work, Kowalski stops abruptly. Then he looks at her in all seriousness, "There's a 98% percent chance we will get caught," he points sharply at his notebook with his pencil, like that's supposed to convince her.

"Kowalski," Marlene says patiently, gently moving his notebook away, "You're a scientist. Shouldn't you explore any and all possibilities, no matter how small?"

"That-That's not the same--"

She grabs his flipper in her paws, pleadingly, "It is. Come on, Kowalski, just this once."

He looks away flustered (but does not pull his flipper from her paws), shoulders slumped, says _Fine._

---

Date night is Wednesday, which is a funny night to have a date, but she's not Dorris, so whatever.

Everyone knows about Kowalski's date just like everyone knows about his crush.

No one knows why Dorris agreed, except her, and (there is a betting pool in progress with the most likely outcome of the date: a kiss on the cheek, a slap on the cheek or a second date. No one's bet on the third option yet. She holds unto hope), Marlene feels really low and stupid for even considering the plan, but she's already set it in motion.

Plus Dorris wants to give it a go since Marlene convinced her that Kowalski is actually really charming. That's not a lie, he's just a bit of an idiot. And a bit clueless, but his heart is in the right place, that's what counts, right?

That night, Marlene's cave is nice, and warm, and quiet, and this is how she usually likes it, but she's staring up at her ceiling waiting for Kowalski to pop up from the manhole underneath her carpet to tell her if he was charming and won Dorris' heart or if he was his old usual self and analyzed the entire thing to death and now the poor dolphin will never speak to him directly, so. So she feels like the openess of her home is literally suffocating her.

She falls asleep, and because she's not woken up (none of the penguins understand the rule of privacy outside themselves, so she expects to be woken up, but she isn't and that only means two things, which only really means one thing), she understands Kowaslki's inconspicuous absence.

The next morning she meets the tall penguin's eyes, and he waves at her (slow and dishearteningly, but _totallyhonestly_ grateful (and heart seems to drop down to the vicinity of her feet), while Skipper keeps trained eyes on them both, and she knows he knows, so after she smiles and waves back guiltily, Marlene walks away.

--

She's no coward. Marlene just stalls a little because she's upset he's upset. She wasn't sure when she had become so invested in his relationships (liar), and maybe it was because a kindred spirit is a kindred spirit (maybe), or that in the back in her mind she knew she threw him to the lion's den, (or maybe it's because, if she's honest, she acted selfishly and thoughtlessly) but.

She stalls until she can't stall anymore.

(Because she can turn her cheek the other way and hope he'll forget the favor, and so she'll forget the favor, and it would be business as usual.

Kowalski isn't like her).

"My end of the bargain." He says to her when he corners her behind the lemur's habitat, "Three weeks from now. Funday. 0200 hrs."

(And so maybe she's still stalling.

Guilt is a funny thing.)

* * *

A/N:I love King Julien. Just saying. Also, this fic is kind of plot less. R&R?


	2. Oblivious

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, my story. Particularly Gwelicious and Monsey 38 (espero, _espero_, que te guste!), for being the firsts to review and so kindly too. Incredibly long chapter up ahead, please enjoy! :)

Standard Disclaimers apply

* * *

Chapter 2: Ob(li)vious

Huh.

Marlene tilts her head a little hoping it will give her better perspective. Her mind likes to spin things out of proportion because she's expecting a dull, disheartened, and dispassionate Kowalski training, but he's just like the other penguins. In sync, flawless. Powerful. Like always.

She's staring at him too much (he notices, everyone notices). Marlene's a little embarrassed, but she's also amused that the extra attention makes him uncomfortable, and shy, and he messes up a little (a teeny tiny bit only he could probably notice, and she only knows because her eyes are trained on him, and frustration is evident on his frown. And the accusing glare he directs at her). She waves, smiling.

"Hey, guys."

"Hi, Marlene!" Private says in companionship to Rico's friendly grunt. Skipper and Kowalski regard her with cold familiarity. She's been in worse. She's done worse.

So. "I need to borrow Kowalski again."

The reactions this time around are surprisingly different. Skipper looks almost pleased --smug, she doesn't know what that means, doesn't understand him at all-- while Kowalski's glare morphs into discomfort, (okay _almost_ different). Private and Rico share knowing smirks and, if she were to look more closely, wiggling brows.

"Sure Marlene. Just bring him back before his curfew."

There's an edge to the request, but she lets it go, grabs Kowalski's flipper and crushes it against her body ("Ow."), "Oh don't worry Skipper, I'll be _real _good to him."

Really. Sort of. (It's all good and fun as long as she can wipe the smugness off Skipper's face. And. She did. So there.)

--

When they're out of hearing and visual range--she almost smirks at her own use of words-- Kowalski grips her shoulder and shakes her violently, "You're arousing suspicion!"

She fixes him with an unconvinced glare, (he promptly lets go of her shoulders), "Really?"

"Yes. Skipper will surely notice something amiss for-for uh--Operation...Funday." She raises an eyebrow at the name. Kowalski's creative, he just...lacks a bit of grace.

"Don't you think Skipper's _already _suspicious."

"Well. Yes." He looks up quickly at the sky, bewildered.

It's kind of charming. Marlene shakes her head at the weird thought, forcing down the urge to laugh. Changes tactics for a second.

"So, hey. I-um. I heard about your date the other night--"

"Ah. I rather not discuss it."

He starts hobbling away but she quickly clamps her paws around his flipper so she can hold him back, "What did you do, exactly?"

Kowalski shakes her off irritated, "It was tawdry, inelegant, and." Suddenly flustered, he furrows his brow refusing to meet her eyes, "A disaster."

Well that's the nice way of putting it. She almost sighs. "You brought out your notepad didn't you?"

"Three times. All for perfectly reas-"

"Kowalski!" She's not surprised, but. Really? You don't let your date know how psychotic you really are until at least the third date, and even then you let the crazy out little by little. She breathes out noisily, tries to be sympathetic--lion's den, she kicked him in-- by placing a delicate paw on the back of his shoulder. It's the first time she's ever noticed how much taller he is than her and how impossibly tense he is underneath all his feathers. Which are soft. Like incredibly soft, (she fingers them for a split second before she realizes she clearly lost her mind and stops).

Marlene, undeterred, tries again, "Dorris said she had fun."

"Ah." Kowalski's posture slumps a little as he frowns disappointed at the ground, instinctively she steps closer to him for support, "But she still doesn't like me-like me. Correct?"

The words stick inside her throat for a second though somehow, regrettably, she's able to get them out, "You're rarely wrong, Kowalski."

He smiles a little attempting to put humor in a situation that did not warrant it, "Right. Such is my curse."

(Marlene decides to omit the part where Dorris told her about his goofy red and blue glasses presented to her as if they were the greatest thing ever, or how he broke them trying to put it on her nose, or how he lost his pencil to one of the other dolphins and went home early with nothing more than a good-bye. Or how, at the end of the day, Dorris really, really, wants to be his friend.

Marlene doesn't know why. She just does.)

--

[Fun fact-- Kowalski is the opposite of her. She has a minuscule impulse control, she's childish, and she likes to speak rapidly and familiarly with everyone.

So she thought Kowalski who is analytical, (crazy), self-controlled and accommodating would be someone Dorris would really get along with (Dorris isn't her best friend though). Female intuition and all that. Her's must be defective, (not only did it say Dorris and Kowalski would get along famously, it also told her Skipper might like her, but so far it seems to have been all in her head. Ridiculous.)

Fun fact--Kowalski isn't all that different from her, (they're hopeless, honest-to-goodness hopeless with these sort of things). ]

--

It's a nice, warm, sunny Friday and the entire Zoo is filled with people, so by the end of the day she's exhausted, but she's like a masochist because afterward she decides to trot into the penguin's place to see what they (Skipper) had been up to. To _unwind.  
_

The penguins are relaxed and at ease playing cards, until they notice her presence and almost Ninja-Kung Fu her or whatever (she saw Rico swallowing back his crowbar) to the ground, but she's _glad_ for their zaniness. Because. Because kids are only 'cute' for about two seconds before the entire 'cute' thing becomes really tedious.

She blinks as Skipper comes into her field of vision, "Oka~y." Marlene says, patting away imaginary dirt off her fur, "Yeah, one of these days I'll totally get used to that."

"See that you do." Skipper mutters, waving everyone off.

"Uh-huh. That, Skipper, was sarcasm."

"You mean Kung Fu." This is one of Skipper's blindingly annoying and cute moments. The corners of her mouth twitch--she's not sure if it's in amusement or annoyance.

"You know what? Whatever." She'll settle for amused.

"You here to _borrow_ Kowalski again?" He asks sharply, something in her gut twists violently as her eyes dart away from him. She meets Kowalski's by accident. They both avert their eyes back-- as if caught--towards Skipper, shocked at the bitterness of the question.

Slowly she lowers her head a little, coyly, "What if I said _I _wanted to see _you _guys?"

"I'd say 'Baloney'."

Marlene blinks. She was trying to be honest at the moment, in a round-about really vague sort of way, (because the obvious straightforward sort of way doesn't work at all, she's tried. A lot.), and so far he's single-handedly shot all her attempts down. Marlene stares at the short penguin in disbelief. Does he, does he even realize it? Has he ever?

Fine. "Fine, Skipper, you win. I came over to steal your secrets and maybe even some of your men by tricking them with my deadly feminine wiles. You know, brainwash them to do my evil bidding and all that junk." Belatedly, she realizes that's almost exactly what she had done just a few days earlier. In the corner of her eye, she catches Kowalski turn his head towards the ground.

"That's not funny, Marlene."

She waves Skipper off carelessly, "Yeah, yeah I know. You're not the fun kind of penguin. I'm bored, thought we could all do something together, but you know what? What don't you shove--"

"We're playing cards! If-if you want to join us, Marlene." Private says, subtly moving between Skipper and herself. She relaxes visibly and smiles warmly at the youngest penguin.

"That sounds lovely." She directs her eyes towards Skipper again, expectantly, annoyed (hurt and angry).

He's unflinching. "I'll wipe the floor with you."

--

And he does. Skipper wipes the floor with her, Rico, Private, and Kowalski too. Plays unmercifully and cruelly, and when Kowalski starts helping her out (out of sympathy since he's the only one that has any sort of chance against Skipper, and she's _really _starting to lose her temper), Skipper's attention double so Kowalski loses every single hand they play.

Both Rico and Private withdraw before they start getting caught in whatever it was that crawled up Skipper's butt and died. Kowalski tries to too, but. But Skipper is intent on making sure the scientist learns his lesson (whatever that is, because this isn't how cool, collected, cynosure, tightly-wound up, head-in-military-clouds, delusional Skipper usually operates. Now she's just playing out of morbid fascination rather than pleasure).

Eventually though, he runs out of steam, like the fog is lifted and he can see what a complete jerk he is being. So he makes a vague attempt at an apology and withdraws from the game, so cool, so collected. So like _Skipper_, (her stomach is full of these stupid, annoying butterflies or something, and her body trembles a little and she wants to reach out and tell him to stay with her a while longer).

Skipper waves a lazy good-bye to them and when Private asks where he's heading to, he says offhandedly: "Recon on Ringtail. He's been suspiciously quiet today." And quickly disappears.

After a few ticking seconds of tense silence between them, Kowalski looks back her as if he's never seen her before, as if he has no idea what to do with her and Marlene wonders if she should bury her head on her arms or slap him. Instead, Marlene stares back at him, unamused.

"Deal," she nearly barks, "we'll play for _fun _this time."

(in the back of her mind, she remembers that one of the reasons she was there in the first place was because she wanted to properly apologize to Kowalski anyway. Being with Skipper had been secondary in her mind. Honest.)

Quickly Marlene musters her courage, straightens her spine while also lowering her cards so he's prompted to look at her, "Kowalski, I'm-I'm sorry."

He frowns confused for a moment, then smiles uncomfortably, "Skipper can be a tad... headstrong sometimes, but it does not qualif--"

"Not about that idiot, I mean, I mean for _me _being an idiot."

They're quiet again, except for the sound of Rico's deep grumbles to his doll, and Private's show in the background. If she listens carefully, she can hear the water just outside splaying gently against the fake rock lining the habitat.

"You were shrewd," he says cautiously, "I do not fault you for finding a way in which both parties could benefit. No need to apologize."

Marlene is, oddly enough, annoyed. Because she really wants Kowalski to be angry with her. Anger she can deal with, this on the other hand? This is all weird and strange and she's not sure of it, just like she's not sure if Skipper is truly insane or just really, really, oblivious to reality.

"You don't do the whole self-introspection thing, do you?" She asks, frowning in disapproval.

He shrugs unconcerned, "Certainly. Take this game for instance, I question the motivation of my playing against you."

"Oh. Yeah, uh-huh. Real cute." At least he is. Kowalski's even letting her cheat. Any other day she would be upset, today she appreciates the gesture because she's exhausted, physically and mentally and emotionally, and she questions the intelligence of still being wide awake playing games that go nowhere.

It's the company, she decides even though it's a farce like Kowalski's put-on smile.

They play in silence for a while longer, until finally she can't take it anymore, (she suspects it's because she has yet to win a single time in these, these stupid _games, _even when she cheats), "What's with Skipper? He's acting even more abrasively cheerful than usual."

Not for the first time, Kowalski looks wholly miserable with the topic of conversation, "He, he thinks you're trying to make him...jealous."

Marlene blinks slowly, owlishly, "...Why?"

"Are you not?"

"No."

"Oh." Marlene will never know for sure, but Kowalski's shoulders seem to slump a little, which is weird, so she chalks it up to a trick of her tired eyes.

Kowalski does not make any other comments on Skipper, and she's not sure how to push him for more information. It forces her to keep quiet. The tall penguin, meanwhile, maintains an air of casualty as he leans over to fix her cards-- now she has a chance to win against him, he murmurs to her (Marlene, only bristles _a little_). Kowalski then focuses on his own cards, one flipper on his chin rubbing thoughtfully, any and all conversation thus stilted.

She nearly sighs. His comment on Skipper keeps rattling in her head though. Noisily, pleasantly. Marlene decides she's more curious than worried about social politeness, "Why would Skipper even think that?"

Kowalski glowers impatiently at her, leans down and glances around cautiously, "We've been engaged in suspicious activity for the last week, remember?" When he says it like that, it sounds like they're sneaking off to do things she hasn't done since she was in her old zoo with an ex-boyfriend.

Understandably, Marlene kind of panics.

"But-but, I wanted to spend time with you." Kowalski looks at her like she can't possibly be telling the truth, like she's playing a practical joke that's not funny at all, and she suspects the doubt stems from experience which makes her feel like scum. What she's doing may not be a prank, but manipulation is not any better. And, and she's lying to him, which is just as bad.

"Really?" He asks, quite politely.

"Yes." She replies, a bit on edge, "I actually _enjoy_ your company. Not everything I say has strings attached you know." _But some do, so don't let your guard down_, she doesn't say. Because. _Because_.

But she likes Kowalski. Honest to goodness likes him. It's just that. It's complicated and she doesn't know how tell Kowalski, a genius, so.

"Oh." Kowalski mumbles distractedly, both saving her from making a fool out of herself out loud and irritating the living daylights out of her--if she's going to agonize over him, he should at least pay attention. He nods to himself (she grits her teeth trying to be patient) as he sets down his card. Marlene glances at his winning hand then at Kowalski's expressionless face.

She gasps outraged, "Jerk! You tricked me!"

Kowalski smirks proudly while leaning into one flipper nonchalantly, it reminds her of a cheesy movie Private showed her once-- maybe he saw it too and is unconsciously channeling it. The tall, crazy, scientist shakes his head deliberately slow as if incredibly affronted by her accusation, "I'd never! Though...I'd consider us even now."

Marlene likes him. Mostly. When he's doesn't look so full of himself--even if it's kind of...dorky. And. And she's relieved and grateful, and incredibly touched by his sincerity.

Not that he'll ever, ever, _ever_ know. So. "Rematch!"

* * *

A/N: Almost!Skilene & Almost!Marski for the dual shipper. Funny story, I debated with the 'baloney' comment for quite some time, thinking Skipper would never say it. The newest episode put that fear to rest AND fueled my growing love for Marski. Go figure. Again a big thank you for all you readers out there.

Feedback? Always appreciated.


	3. Abnegate

A/N: Thank you everyone, for keeping up with this fic. It's been a challenge and your reviews motivation for me to not give in to my short attention span.

In chapter two, I forgot to erase the 'incredibly long chapter ahead' message. This chapter was actually part of the previous chapter, but I decided to break it apart since the tone here is slightly different than chapter two and I wasn't sure about it. It was a major pain to write, and I'm still not sure of how I feel about it.

Dedicated to Monsy 38---for letting me _(pester)_ bounce ideas with her. :)

I do hope everyone enjoys the chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Standard Disclaimers apply.

* * *

Chapter 3: Abnegate

A couple of days after the card game incident Marlene gets into a heated argument with Skipper.

She's spending too much time inside the penguin's quarters and Skipper bluntly lets her know. She keeps distracting his men with stupid inane conversation no one cared about, has halted any and all possible experiments from Kowalski, not to mention jeopardized the vitality of some of their missions.

Marlene reads between the lines. She's being clingy. On the wrong penguin.

She scoffs, airily dismissing his claims but Skipper is not the least bit amused by her. Before she knows it he's forcibly guiding her towards the exit hatch in a manner that feels far too final for her liking, her throat dry in anticipation.

"Skipper--" In a moment of panic she clings to the upper side of his flipper and somehow, miraculously, she's not on her back staring at the ceiling.

He stops walking abruptly glaring at her paw. Marlene lets said paw fall slightly at a more comfortable angle, trying to catch his eye.

"Skipper," she tries again nearly breathless and nervous and tired of his constant sidestepping whenever she tries talking to him, in private or in public. She's not entirely sure of thei sudden increased tension between them--there's always been one, mute, too subtle for her to pay attention, buffered --she hazards a guess he's not either but is trying to avoid it all. Which seems so out of character for him she's not sure that he doesn't understand and is trying to pass it off as a mere inconvenience.

Not to mention the whole 'jealous' issue, which she found laughable, slightly flattering and extremely annoying. She's not good at pretending, and she has a flair for manipulation, but she's not comfortable with the idea of Kowalski becoming a bigger pawn to her than he already is. Besides, that whole jealousy angle really reeks of desperation and she is so _not_ desperate.

Marlene tries a tentative smile, tries not to notice how his flipper unconsciously curls around her paw for a second before quickly straightening out, "Kowalski and I...we're friends. Like _we _used to be, Skipper." She tugs him a step closer to her to emphasize the point. Maybe she's being naive again, because she wants to hear him say they aren't friends like she is with Kowalski, or that he gets what she's implying.

Skipper looks incredulously at her for a second before something clicks, like he finally _understands _her, and her heart skips a beat in excitement when his gaze turns to their joined limbs--the corners of her mouth tug out a brighter smile, and her heart is hammering in her chest so loudly she almost misses his next words (in retrospect, she wishes she had).

"We're still..._friends_, Marlene." Skipper says, slow, accepting, voice lacking it's usual bravado. _Pitying._

She drops the smile and flipper quickly, suddenly very _very_ embarrassed, humiliated and angry. Her heart stops just so it can be replaced by emptiness and this weird frozen shame. She blinks, once, twice, crosses her arms suddenly cold and feeling rather stupid, unable to meet Skipper's expectant (awkward) stare. Still Friends? (she wants to scream at him for playing her for an idiot) Marlene is not naive enough to continue the pathetic facade she had constructed around herself.

She takes a breath (damn, half way through it breaks, and her voice hitches a little). Hoping it comes off sincere she smiles, laughs "Oh. Okay. Good! That's good, I mean of course we're still friends, you're right. Yeah. I was just a bit worried about, well you know. Glad we cleared that up."

The sound of silence is interesting, it creaks of metal, and there is a small _woosh _where the air passes through holes. It all rings violently in her ears. Marlene looks at the space between them, inches, just inches and it feels too close, specially when he reaches forward. Skipper retracts immediately when she steps back mechanically. Blood pounds in her ears-- muffles her thoughts for a second, but then she's trying to remember how to breathe since apparently rejection means an aburpt cease of fully functioning lungs along with a non-beating heart, which is funny because it seems all her blood rushed to her ears and she's surprised she's even standing.

"Could you tell Kowalski to find me when he gets a break?" She doesn't recognize her own voice--it is too low, too gruff, too emotional, too much. She doesn't even know what she's saying anymore, just wants to fill in for the silence between them. It's so loud it makes her eyes water in pain, (she can't lie to herself, not anymore).

"I'll relay the message." Skipper answers so sharply, she flinches. He grimaces too when he hears his own words vibrating between the hollow walls they stand in.

"Skipper, don't..." his name stumbles out of her mouth before she can even process it, and she knows she's grasping at nothing now, because her friend doesn't feel like a friend anymore, but like a stranger and everything is weird and fuzzy, sort of like drowning. Marlene wants to reach out again, to take back her words, to make it so he and she are back to where they used to weird tension and all. She wants to feel the weight of his flipper on her, reliable, and strong and always friendly and supportive.

There is no room for it, his face is hard and unreadable. It's all late now. She straightens her shoulders realizing the futility in her efforts. With a sigh, she gives up, "...don't work yourself sick."

"Not gonna happen."

Marlene smiles tightly at his inadvertently appropriate words.

"Right. Silly me."

Silly Little Otter.

--

When she enters her home the first thing she spots is her bed and nearly collapses just by the comfy sight of it. There is nothing she wants more than to lay in bed and sleep and pretend the last hour did not actually happen. Sleep won't come though so there is a long period of time she only stares at the roof of her cave counting all the jagged rocks jutting outwards.

Unexpectedly, Kowalski _does _show up. Late, tired, and beat up-- she's glad to know Skipper is a hard-ass not completely without a heart even if she had been lying at the time, and now just wanted to be alone. She doesn't have the heart to turn Kowalski away, specially how earnestly awkward he is.

"Hey." She says as he tentatively makes his way towards her prostrate form, stiff in his movements.

"Skipper mentioned you wished to see me?" He taps one of his flipper on his side. It must be a tick because he doesn't seem aware he's even doing it. His brows are furrowed harshly too. He must be really confused with the situation. Truthfully, so is she.

"Not really. Sorry." Marlene tries to be clear--she doesn't want company anymore.

"Oh. Alright. Do you need me?" He squints at her, as if assessing the situation. It makes her fur stand on end--Kowalski is, unsurprising really, very talented at finding her buttons and _smashing_ them.

"No." her voice is clipped.

"Good."

At her confused glare he reluctantly amends as if it's a chore she's not on the same insane level of thought pattern he is, her cheek spasms violently, " It is beneficial to your emotional well being that you do not rely--emotional reliance on someone can become detrimental--if you become too attached to an individual--"

"Okay." She interrupts tersely hoping he gets the hint. He clamps his beak shut and stares ahead; she can feel the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. They're not on the same thought frequency, but he's smart. He figures things out quick.

Instead of leaving, Kowalski surprises her as he sits next to her, taps his flippers together rhythmically to cover the silence. It's actually soothing, she wants to ask him if it's an old song, or something he just made up on the spot but the words seem stuck in her throat. She just lays there staring at the ceiling, grimacing, letting her mind wonder aimlessly.

Eventually, because misery truly loves company, it circles back to Kowalski's failed date. She wants to ask, Are you over Doris? How did you do it? Did you take notes? Forget that last question, can I just have them?

"Do you believe in kindred spirits?" She asks instead, tentatively looking at his profile.

"No." Kowalski answers smartly, "It is a baseless scientific improbability."

"Oh." She looks back up to the ceiling, disappointed. A few minutes of almost silence pass--or maybe it was just two seconds, she's not keeping track anymore--he's sill tapping his flipper; now against the stone he's sitting on changing the tone slightly, his gaze straight ahead, posture ramrod straight. If it wasn't for the slightly hunched-up shoulders he'd be the picture of composure. She rolls to her stomach so she can properly look at him.

She'll blame it on insanity because there is an obvious jump of logic in her brain, "I think you're my kindred spirit, Kowalski."

He jumps slightly, startled, the song disrupted. He looks at her surprised. Part of her wonders if it's because she's talking like a raving lunatic, or if it's because she's talking at all.

"Really?" He asks rubbing his beak in consideration or maybe to distract her. At the moment, she doesn't really care, misses the odd tune he had been performing.

"Really." She responds, shifting to get more comfortable and to cede space for Kowalski. He's earned that at the very least.

"_Why_?" He asks, gragging the question as if genuinely stumped anyone would even consider the idea, like he doesn't understand her at all.

She rolls her eyes, feeling very tense. She never knew Kowalski could get under her fur so efficiently, like Skipp-- "I don't know okay? I just do." She grits.

He leans back a little --a mute sign he's to stay a while longer-- sending her a quick grateful smile (and all her irritation seems to quickly melt into guilt and then gratitude), before speaking again, mindful of his words, "I shall endeavor my best to fulfill the role, Marlene."

"Even though it's scientifically impossible?" it's a question for argument's sake; Marlene props herself on her elbows eying him warily. He's indifferent, cool and collected. She has to look away; she's starting to see someone else in Kowalski.

"You mean 'improbable'. And I'm sure there's an _improbably _small chance there is some...truth behind the...idea. " He's a terrible, terrible, earnest liar. He sucks at comforting too. She can't help it, she smiles.

Even though Kowalski is sitting next to her, still awkwardly she might add, there's nothing he can really do. She's very glad for the company and effort anyway, and lets him know. He nods, a kind-- well more like _strained_-- smile on his countenance.

Not once does he ask nor hints at what's upsetting her--Kowalski probably knows anyway and is under strict orders to help her get over her weak disposition to _feelings_--- she's quite ambivalent, unsure of how to feel about it all. But, she's grateful for his silent support anyway no matter how misguided and odd his attempts.

That is until he gets bored, takes out his notebook and starts making sapid desultory conversation, illustrations and all included, which in the end just makes her laugh (until she's in _tears_) and he's really pleased with himself, like he's gotten the answer to an equation he'd been struggling with for _years_, and then she's actually trying to hold back a sob because Kowalski really is her kindred spirit and they're honest-to-goodness terrible at these sorts of things but they're trying and that's what counts in the end, right?

Before he leaves she stops him and wants to say _thank you, _so she does. She hesitates and he does too and they stand in front of each other with a weird sense of _ almost _and _maybe _between them but there's nothing else to really say, except for Kowalski's _you're welcome_.

So he says _you're welcome_ and stands in front of her for a second too long for it to just be polite.

He leaves. The weirdness of the evening lingers around her until she finally succumbs to sleep.

--

Sunday morning. Stretch, eat, swim, groom herself, watch the penguins. Only laugh for a little bit when Skippers cheekily tells her they're not eye-candy for her to ogle at.

Feel a bit disheartened when he, smiles a (discomfit) crooked smile to her then turns the other way. Pretend the empty dreading feeling in the pit of her gut is nothing more than fatigue. Watch Rico's relatively small, but powerful, firework display. Listen to Private's latest weird dream (badgers, why badgers?). Assure Kowalski that he is, in fact, crazy. Just for fun.

Flip around a little for the kids and their parents, catch any food they throw at her. Rest.

Get bored.

Find herself pestering Kowalski once again, (it used to be Skipper). Everyone notices. Except Kowalski. He's just eager to show someone his new ideas.

She doesn't mean to. She meet's Skippers eyes.

(And her heart, her heart _sinksinksinks_).

--

Eventually Marlene is able to squeeze a few moments alone with Kowalski. Or as alone as he'll be anytime soon it appears, because both Rico and Private keep watchful eyes on her (Skipper is nowhere to be found and she's glad).

She doesn't particularly mind supervision; Kowalski seems to.

Sweetly, because she finds the entire situation extremely amusing, she clasps her paws in front of her and smiles as sincerely as she can considering they're being monitored like potential prey. But still. Kowalski looks absolutely mystified with the situation just as much as he looks pleased. Like he's unsure of how to react, and she's waiting for his notebook to spring out so he can finally decide what to do and how to feel.

"Thank you. For last night." She swears she can hear Rico's snickering in the background. Marlene glances quickly in his direction catching Kowalski glaring at the ground for a second. Then he shrugs (so not) casually, smiling unnaturally. His eyes shifts to his side nervously, never meeting hers.

"Er, it was my pleasure."

She doesn't swear anymore, Rico's actually _laughing_! She turns to glare at him, paws at her hips about to ask him just what's so damn funny, but Rico is hard at work ignoring her for his weapons. Private waves at her innocently.

Marlene harrumphs ostentatiously, "Anyway, I know S-Skipper put you up to it--"

"Skipper was not a factor in--"

"It's fine, it's fine. You don't have to lie," she chuckles mirthlessly, ignoring the quick look of annoyance that crosses his face, "just let me make it up to you."

"Unnecessary." Marlene shakes her head, so far this conversation was _not_ going the way she had hoped, but that's okay. He was patient for her, she can be patient for him.

"Then at the very least," with renewed vigor, Marlene squares her shoulder before closing the distance between herself and Kowalski. Her arms are too short to fully encircle him, she notes dully. Carefully, she lays her head on his chest--Kowalski still has remarkably soft feathers that mold around her face comfortably--she nearly sighs at the contact, closing her eyes instead. His heartbeat against her cheek is rapid, almost erratic. Such a strange contrast to hers--are penguin's heartbeat so strange? This is the first time she's heard it.

"Thanks, Kowalski." She murmurs quietly, so this time only he can hear the words, (funny, for a split second she couldn't hear his heart beat; penguin's hearts are really weird).

Marlene pull back vaguely aware of Rico's low whistle and Private's frantic attempt to shut him up, she pays it no mind. Kowalski's extremely uncomfortable face makes up for it all. He taps the tips of his flippers together when she releases him and there's a good amount of distance between them, he quickly regains composure.

He coughs into his flipper attempting to put even more distance between them, "That was unnecessary."

"Let's do something later, okay?" She channels her energy into ignoring his protests and ducking out the door not bothering to wait for answer--she does hear Rico's laughter getting louder for a second before abruptly cutting off, followed by Private's chiding "Serves you right, Rico." Both her eyebrows lift in wonder before she shrugs smiling satisfied.

On her way out she bumps into Skipper, her good mood swiftly gone.

"Oh. Hey, Marlene." He says to something right over her shoulder bearing her name.

"Yeah, hi Skipper."

--

"You, er, look beautiful today?" Marlene stares at Kowalski pursing her lips struggling, quite valiantly if she said so herself, to keep from laughing. Slowly she shakes her head slightly amused but definitely confused. This is not how he usually greets her. Or anyone for that matter.

"You feeling alright there, soldier?"

"Fine. Um, are you?" He gestures towards her with both flippers.

"Dandy. You gonna come in or are you gonna stay there all day acting weird?"

He actually whipped out his notepad and pencil. Marlene sighs, even if she's not surprised. She had only meant to give him some of the candy she had saved up as a big 'Thank You For Not Laughing at Me The Other Night'. In the back of her mind she wonders if maybe this was another one of her not so bright ideas.

"Just come in already." He does so slow and tentatively she actually grabs his flipper to rush him along. A beat, "What's with the bow?"

"Why? Is it...inappropriate?" Kowalski touches the blue bow around his neck gingerly with his free flipper, an oddly out of place nervous frown on his face.

"No, I mean if it's a new fad of yours go for it. I just don't see why you would need it. Unless...are you trying to impress a lady friend? Because I gotta tell you, that's _so_ not the way to go." She moves in front of him and tugs the offending blue monstrosity. It easily comes undone. Marlene carefully slides it off his neck, belligerently proud of her work. Like somehow she righted a terrible wrong in the world. In her mind, she has.

"Better!" She declares throwing the bow aside. When she looks up at Kowalski, Kowalski doesn't seem...particularly pleased. Marlene turns her gaze to the white feathers in front of her; frets maybe she's crossed the line by both insulting and removing the tie.

Marlene doesn't know Kowalski all that well. She knows he's tall, smart, relies heavily on his notepad or else he becomes indecisive, he's crazy and he's not very good with normal social situations. He's _kind _of sweet, and careful, and considerate, and likes Chinese food just like everyone else. She doesn't know his favorite color, or his favorite kind of drink, or-or anything really.

Feeling reprimanded Marlene tries to apologize, "Hey Kowals--"

"I knew I should of have never listened to Private." He grumbles completely disregarding her almost apology so as to turn and blankly stare at his flipper.

She follows his gaze; quickly removes her paw away from said flipper.

Kowalski turns his head to stare at her openly before he vehemently flips through his notes making annoyed noises, until finally he stops peers at her once again, furrows his brows, and goes back through it.

She is inordinately relieved he's not upset about the tie, so she hurriedly gestures for him to find a place to sit.

"What did Private say?" Kowalski sits in the exact same place he sat the night Skipper reje--well. Kowalski is surprisingly predictable. She adds that to her newly made mental _Kowalski_ notes.

"Young Private believes the most efficient and successful manner to progress through this, er, ordeal is to listen to you and nod in agreement to every statement you make. No matter what. Even if said statements are ludicrous. Oh," he snaps his flipper as if remembering something, "he also said to compliment you constantly but that seems entirely--"

"Really?" She almost laughs but he seemed too strung out to really appreciate the humor of the situation and that he's rambling. "Kowalski, you don't need to do that."

He catches the humor in her voice anyway as he openly glares at her. Marlene juts her chin out proudly just to bug him more. "And you don't need to be so tense either, ya know." She pats his back as best as she can.

Kowalski visibly relaxes only a fraction before he nods. She almost gives up, but instead makes her way to the bag of hidden goodies she kept for lazy afternoons a bit sad she has to part with it. But it's for a good reason. Even if said reason is starting to poke buttons she had not been aware off.

"Right!" Kowalski says hastily before he gestures to her rigidly once again, "Um. You look beautiful today?"

She rolls her eyes, "What did I tell you?"

"Er, right. Nervous tick."

Marlene doesn't buy it, but lets it go smiling widely as she makes to stand in front of Kowalski, "Guess what I have for you?"

He looks at the bag she holds excitedly, "A new pair of glasses to replace the ones I broke?"

"Um, no." She supposes she needs to act like she has no idea how he broke said glasses. Her lips quirk, "Why do you need new glasses?"

"Classified." He says quickly, dismissive, eyes never leaving the brown bag on her paws. Marlene huffs, no longer able claim she's annoyed. Kowalski is simply too easy to prod.

"I guess you don't want what's inside this bag." She shakes the bag in front of him teasingly, not quite able to keep the smile off her face.

Kowalski regards her with an apprehension that quickly changes to controlled eagerness, "What is it?"

He does not do guessing. Marlene finds that incredibly boring, if predictable.

"You said it best, _the forbidden fruit flavored food_."

"You have...candy?" He looks so amazed and giddy it rubs off on her, and so maybe he's not the spontaneous kind of penguin but he's very enthusiastic and she supposes that makes up for it.

"Yup, I wanted to give you my stash, but if--"

"Really?" He cuts her off so brusquely she's actually thrown off. She pauses for a second eyebrows drawn together.

"Yes, really." Between them, an eerie sense of _déjà vu _grows. Her chest clenches as she waits for him to ask the inevitable.

"Oh. Thank you." Marlene blinks once. Relaxes. Kowalski is full of surprises.

"I'm afraid I did not bring anything to reciprocate." He says after a pause, eyes still glued to the bag.

"_I'm _the one returning a favor, Kowalski. You know you're making this much more difficult than it has to be."

"...my sincerest apolog--"

"How about you eat a piece already?"

Kowalski doesn't need to be told twice-- he digs in eagerly and not to be outdone she follows his steps happily. Little by little they eat the candy, which in turn lifts their moods from tense and weird to hyper and weird.

Throw in there a few stupid candy-eating candy-induced games, and all that's left is them clutching their guts, groaning, curled on the ground stomach full of sweetness that lingers in the back of her tongue--she wrinkles her nose trying not to hurl. Maybe they should of have held back a bit on the sugar.

From his position on the ground, Kowalski talks philosophy to her--or more specifically he makes her feel like an idiot for half the evening talking circles around her. Everything that comes out of his beak is complicated, fast and she gets bored quickly as she's not able to follow the frantic logic of his arguments. To make up for it she stares at his flippers waving furiously in front of him as he tries to illustrate his points--to her it looks like he's trying to fight off imaginary enemies and it sets her off in a fit of hysterical giggles.

When Kowalski, eventually, senses her absence in the conversation, he turns tense and uncomfortable and away from her.

Or maybe it's her imagination--the sugar is slowly melting out of her system leaving behind only a dry throat, a stomachache, headache, and urge to puke her guts out. She rolls from her side onto her back staring at Kowalski's upside down face. His eyes are closed. Maybe he feels like crap too. He looks like crap. She probably does too.

Carefully, Marlene angles their bodies so they're heads are parallel to each other nearly collapsing when her head tries to implode. Her mind spins wildly out of control, jerks to a stop. It's as if her head was full of sloshing liquid. Maybe it's the reason she's seeing the colors around her blend, blur and melt together.

Marlene turns her head towards Kowalski once more, wondering if he likes bows. Or the color blue. Or if he needs a bucket to puke in. He looks like he does.

"Hey Kowalski, do you like bows?"

"No."

"The color blue?"

"I am impartial."

"Did you tell Dorris the same thing?"

He doesn't answer immediately. Maybe he has trouble keeping up with her thinking logic too. Or maybe it's his sugar-filled brain that's not letting said brain receive, comprehend, translate, and answer the question.

"Wh_at_?" Oh. Kowalski on a sugar crash is not eloquent at all.

"You know the 'beautiful' line. It only works when you mean it, you know."

"I meant it."

She smiles serenely at the ceiling, "I'm sure Dorris appreciated it. Girls like being told they're beautiful, even if it's a lie."

"I wouldn't lie." She hums once, acknowledging his answer.

They slip into a comfortable silence so she lets her mind drift pleasantly. The ground is cold though and there is a crick on her back from laying there for so long, and her stomach is starting to grumble its protest. This is when she comes to a sobering and sad conclusion. She's never going to eat candy ever again. Ever.

Even the ones filled with the white stuff--although those are her favorites. Okay, maybe she'll only eat candy _once_ in a while.

She feels Kowalski sits up all of the sudden. Her eyes fly open to hear him groan, turn to her, cover his beak for a second looking ill, swallow, breathe shallowly, and plaster a look that would qualify as 'stern' if it wasn't for the weird tint of green coloring him.

"You look beautiful today." He says.

Marlene laughs quietly for quite some time despite her head and stomach's protests--as if that was the funniest thing she's ever heard. Today? It totally is. Kowalski doesn't seem to catch the joke. That's okay, though. Right now, everything is okay, well, and a little bit too colorful.

She sighs contently, "You're a good friend, Kowalski."

* * *

A/N: The breakdown and rebuilding of friendship. It's rough, but never the end.

_Feedback is love. _


	4. Engougement

A/N: Did anyone else have problems with this weekend? When I tried uploading this chapter I was refused. A billion times. They fixed it though, so good news.

Dedicated to Monsy 38. For being made of awesome. And for my reviewers: for also being made of awesome. Please enjoy!

Title definition: an infatuation; an irrational liking for something.

[Standard Disclaimers Apply]

* * *

Chapter 4: Engougement

Being friends with Kowalski is not as life-altering as she'd imagined.

In fact, there is no sense of wellness, or completeness in the world. Being friends with Kowalski does not even give her a right to hang in the penguin's HQ for more than necessary, it does not allow her to ask questions about the motives and actions of the penguins, and it certainly does not mean he opens up to her with his darkest, deepest fears. It doesn't even allow her access to better understand his strange sense of humor.

Being friends with Kowalski only means that. Marlene is friends with Kowalski. They say hello to each other with slightly more familiarity than they would passing strangers, and when they cross paths with each other it is handled with a hearty 'hi' from her and a normal, albeit stoic, nod from him.

If she's learned anything from him is this: he actually holds a deep seeded hatred for bows ("The ultimate penguin cliché humans force us upon our race!") and the _non_-color white ("Antarctica." was his answer when she asked why). He views colors in their truest, most basic, forms: wavelengths of the sun bending and refracting at different frequencies.

The only thing to like about a color is how the world absorbs said wavelengths and spits it back out to trick the eye into believing there is something more than just plain old rays of sunshine. And to measure whether something is edible, poisonous, or perhaps about to explode. The essentials.

He loves candy, the mono and disaccharides (sucrose, maltose, glucose) in the concoction are the ultimate synthetic flavor to their palate. Why he's been trying to make his own, all to no avail. Apparently gummy sweetness and fish don't go together as well as he'd hoped. Yet.

(Skipper must never, ever know; since fellow candy-lovers should stick together, she gets that privilege. She's thrilled. No. Really.)

He hates moonlight as it always complicates even his simplest of plans, and is the best time for enemy attacks and retaliation. He doesn't like combat all that much.

Spanish music is too flashy, passionate, primal, and erratic. He likes the analytical sounds of Mozzarella--some composer of the German area? She stopped really listening (a long time ago) when he started bringing dairy-based foods into the conversation. He has a worn CD she could borrow if she wished. She does not.

In fact, being friends with Kowalski is actually tedious. But. Somehow, it works for them.

"Marlene, I do not believe--"

"Too late! You already promised to do it."

"Yes, however I do not see the benefit of--"

"There's a bunch of benefits. Trust me."

"I don't see it."

"You will. Live a little."

"Fine, however I require—Uh. Marlene? It's...stuck to my feathers." They both stare at the pink mess on his chest. That's sad. His feathers are one of the traits she likes most about him.

"Next time aim away from yourself." She says. Pauses. "That gum's gonna take forever to remove. Ok, well, good luck with that, bye!"

"Y-you tricked me!"

Because Kowalski's her friend. As weird, unnatural, and twisted as it was. And sometimes friends play tricks on friends to get back at said friend for puking in their bed even though she offered a bucket so the very thing would not happen. _Twice_.

So. A friendship with Kowalski is a funny thing, even if it's not as monumental or earth shattering as she had believed it to be; she's petty and he tedious. It works for them.

--

"You're alone?"

What an odd sight.

Kowalski's response is to drop the beaker he held, jump, turn around flippers at the ready to forcibly, if necessary, incapacitate her. Marlene is used to it now, so she strolls in taking note of the wires and blinking lights now covered with a green...sheen of something. Kowalski regains his composure, standing straight. The confusion does not leave his face, however.

"Marlene?"

"Looking for Rico, I wanted to return some things I borrowed."

"He's on a date."

"Oh," she smiles blandly, "I'm glad he and Doll worked things out."

"Their love is an inspiration to us all."

The sarcasm was not lost on her. After all, rejection was rejection and jealousy is jealousy. She hops on the empty space of the work-station she makes for herself. Like this, she's almost eye to eye with Kowalski. He turns to clean up the mess he made, and then starts working on his intricate experiment as if her invading his personal space was nothing new. Which technically speaking, it was. Being friends with Kowalski means she can do that now though, of all things. Not that he appreciates it, he doesn't have elbow space he says, it's just that he's stopped complaining about it and accepted his fate.

Not that it means he'll get off that easy either. Because they're 'friends' now-- weird, alien, new and still unnatural, but 'friends' nonetheless-- "You jealous?"

"Of my bumbling friend who's able to maintain a decent conversation for far longer than I can? Who has not only a loving girlfriend but also three _very _interested flamingoes roped around his flipper? Oh, not to mention Doris wants to know how his relationship is going. No. Not at all."

"What else happened with Doris?" Because that's the crux of the matter. Kowalski knows this. Marlene knows. In fact, the entire zoo knows this. Jealousy is not a pretty thing but it serves as satisfying ripe fruit for the zoo gossips. She's not immune to it.

"Nothing of importance." He mumbles pretending to concentrate very hard on the machine next to her. Like she said, being friends with Kowalski is like existing in the plane slightly above acquaintance…ship?

"You always say that Kowalski." It's not accusation, it is a statement. It hangs in the air, but they leave the conversation as is. He sets to work quietly, choosing now to ignore her. Marlene on the other hand sits parallel to him--they're facing each other without actually having to. She examines his profile.

Marlene remembers the penguins from her old aquarium. They were handsome. And daddies. She thinks Kowalski is not attractive--not the way not the way Private is attractive, not the way Rico is attractive, not the way the daddy penguins were, and most certainly not the way Skipper is attractive. Had it not been for his most obvious crush on Doris, she'd guess he was asexual, or weird-sexual? After all, the first time she met him he seemed married to his science. She knows he is now.

Which begs the question.

"You ever had a girlfriend, Kowalski?"

He slams down his doohickey thingy glaring.

"You are a distracting presence." He states. Her lips thin as she tries to suppress a laugh. He has a habit of constantly informing her of such fact but has yet to kick her out. One day she'll push hard enough he will. Until then she'll just keep pushing like he pushes hers.

Rigidly he turns to his bunker and retrieves something from its depths. She blinks at the round glinting object momentarily distracted from her own thoughts.

"Music. To drown you out." He explains, blankly.

He pops the CD into his boom thingy box, and then clicks something. The room is filled with the slow, low thrums of piano cords, of music she vaguely recognizes. She furrows her brows at him.

"Mozart." Kowalski readily answers her silent question. He turns back to the black box to fiddle around with the speakers.

The notes are stiff, and as they continue to nearly melt into the walls slowly reverberating back to her ears they distort, become strange. Straightforward. Analytical. Insane and forceful. And, shockingly enough, soothing. Like being thrown in the middle of a whirlpool; calm. Thrashing just a breath away.

She wrinkles her nose in distaste. Marlene does not like it. Does not like not being able to pinpoint just where she had heard it before. Does not like the vague indistinct familiarity she held towards it.

It did muffle her thoughts though. Her body sagging against the strong tenors of the shifting piano notes; like a lullaby turning her bones into water, her eyelids to lead. Her mouth, she realizes with a flinch, is slightly agape. So maybe she's fascinated by the morbid controlled insanity of it all.

"I don't like it." She says over the music. Kowalski swivels creepily slow to face her as if she's spoken blasphemy, as if she's just claimed all the science he placed so much faith in was the bane of all evil. She remains strong in her conviction.

Kowalski practically stalks her way, uncharacteristically encroaching her personal space. He searches for something in her face—the lie, the joke, the mocking jeer. He's trying to find it as if it is a bad joke of hers.

"Why?" The question echoes harshly just as the piano notes become shrill and quiet and, in her opinion, desperate for something. Marlene furrows her brows. Because, well. How to explain it? Him or the song.

"It sounds too much like you, Kowalski."

"Thank you," he smiles obviously flattered for a second before the implications dawn on him. "You don't like me?"

"Not what I meant and you know it! It's just so, dry! So…" She can't find the words to properly describe the song, much less Kowalski. Because the song is lovely, and stunning, and striking in its weirdness and the only thing that is an accurate term to describe Kowalski is weirdness, because that's what makes him attractive. The piano's notes are as if made for him. Kowalski.

In the background, the songs hits more high notes, faster, gaining momentum, readying for the finale, her heart matches pitch with it, and she's unconsciously leaning towards the sound preparing for the inevitable swell of instruments, each violently colliding against each other rich and strong.

She almost gasps when it hits her. Glad he had not moved away, she pats his chest with both her palms in absolute excitement. It had bothered her for so long, "The other night! You were playing this!"

"Excuse me?"

"The tapping on the stone, it's this Mozzarella guy!"

"Mozzar—" He's interrupted by the sudden silence as the song concludes harshly. Kowalski glowers at her. Before she can even form a decent comeback, or explanation, he's in front of the music box once again clicking buttons she can't see. He straightens up; wheels back to his original spot in front of her, defiant.

Her ears immediately recognize the scores of violins. They're a whisper, slow, beautiful. Quick, frantic; this too is also desperate, and like the previous one, her heart beats to meet the short burst of the violins, the passion of the instrument players and their self control.

Kowalski says something, but she misses it completely. "What?" Her gaze snaps back to Kowalski, she had been staring at the black music box reverently. The previous song made her body lax; this one, this one put her on edge, like waiting for the inevitable; like being forced to stand in front of her pond, frozen water just a giant plunge away.

"Vivaldi, Winter I. I believe this fits you Marlene." Was this retaliation for not paying attention to him and his boringness?

The music turns slow, still desperate, but then it's escalating, building, mounting upon it-self, she's almost ready for it to collapse and when it doesn't, when it catches itself and continues its quick ascends as if uninterrupted, swelling, growing, strong, chilling, her head spins so violently she's trying to catch her breath. Or maybe it's because suddenly she's too close to Kowalski, too aware of him and his almost-not-really-handsome face, and the anger and fire (and something else she can't pin down) behind his eyes.

"Why?" She's very annoyed (tense, expectant, inclining towards the music and him), not by the choice of song—it's still going in the background with new intense feverish spurts of violin, powerful and emotive and still very pretty and her heart is hammering faster and faster in her ribcage trying to match all the strokes—Marlene just doesn't like feeling trapped. Her eyes move over his face—he's still glaring at her intently and it's a jolt to her system, warm and coiling pleasantly in her stomach, because intense Kowalski is a Kowalski she only sees in the presence of Skipper and science and now it's here in front of her and. She likes it.

The score continues in the backdrop, forgotten just for a second, just a second, until it really does collapse into it's own weight, it's own agrandization but continues now deeper and more meaningful and she realizes that not only is she _too_ close to Kowalski she's really trapped. Between the song, his body and the table she decided to perch her butt on, and the fact that her paw is encased by his flipper (when did it happen? And why is she not pulling back?); stuck by his silent challenge.

She meets it head on. She wants to. Marlene's not sure what's even happening anymore because Kowalski's leaning in and maybe she is too, the music is so frenzied, so reckless, (irreverent, that's what it sounds like; irreverence on the vibrating crash of violin strings and she can understand the meaning behind Kowalski's accusation, _compliment,_ now and inwardly she's delighted).

Marlene's swept in the moment and her brain starts remembering the weird romantic delusions she entertained, and this was not part of any. There was no moonlight, just the dull overhead glow of fluorescent light, there were no half-shell clams just the odd off-putting smell of burnt plastic and miles and miles of copper wiring, and the music was off and not romantic at all, so intense and unpredictable and not at all something she'd imagined Kowalski would ever listen to, but worse of it all it was Kowalski, tall and lean not short and built like Skippe—wait.

Just as fast as it starts, the song ends— sullen and drawn, a complete juxtaposition of how it began and she finally recognizes Kowalski in the song too. Marlene is wide-eyed staring at the space between herself and Kowalski and her entire arm feels like dead weight with the absence of Kowalski's touch. Her heart jumps to her throat; it's so firmly lodged there she can't swallow, much less breathe. The next song snaps into place, the mood vastly different. Haunting and breathtaking and abruptly cut off with a 'click'.

"Afternoon, Skipper." Kowalski says _almost _casually, but he looks as if caught doing exactly what he was not supposed to. For her part, Marlene slants her head as she slides off the table. Kind of ashamed because said slanted head was not on her shoulders and she had been fantasizing about Skipper (again). And he? On great leader of leaders non-the wiser. Also, he was the one that turned the music off (_theironyisso_thick).

He looks between Kowalski and her, and Kowalski once more, furious. He settles his eyes on her.

"Marlene, I believe it's time for you to go." She wants to stay, crazily enough she even wants to apologize. But she stops herself, lifts her chin defiantly, even though the action brings to her awareness the rushing adrenaline in her body and the fact she's standing on weak knees. Her paw spasms wanting to reach out to the table behind her to steady herself.

"Why? We w-weren't—" Despite everything she'd like to tell herself, though? She's still not over Skipper, and her voice betrays her. Wavers. Stupid voice.

If that wasn't enough, Private is just a few steps behind Skipper. Staring at Kowalski. Shocked. She approaches him (because it's easier than to face Skipper or…Kowalski) and places the paint brushes she had wanted to return in the first place on his open flipper.

"Just wanted to give these back."

"I'll return them to Rico when he gets back." Private says. Her cheek spasms viciously when she catches Private hiding a, a. He's…amused! It's like a cosmic joke and she's still waiting for that hilarious punch line.

"Thanks." Not able to think of anything else, she turns to leave. But Skipper and Kowalski are kind of in the way—her skin crawls unpleasantly. Inherently she knows they're both different, but it is strange to see them both next to each other in such a new different light. Because Skipper _was_ her friend. Kowalski _is_ her friend.

It's starting to irritate her. Kowalski's not Skipper, and he will never be, and. She wonders if he's ever had a girlfriend.

Yup. It's time for her to go; it had been time for her to go fifteen minutes ago when she first wondered about that. It's just. Skipper's glaring disapproval at her. Kowalski's hiding his utter disbelief.

It's not ideal, but… it's getting better.

--

Sometime later, Kowalski approaches rather tentatively to inform her of the consequences their non-action earned him (they did nothing more than be in front of each other listening to amazing music); she thins her lips taking a deep breath practicing patience. It's all so ridiculous. They're both adults now aren't they? They can do whatever they want with whoever they want, and whatever the consequences should land solely on their shoulders.

This just takes the proverbial cake.

"You're _grounded_!" She bursts covering her mouth, laughter bubbling out before she can help it.

"I'm _suspended _from duty. There's a difference." It just makes her laugh even more while he tries to quiet her down.

"Whatever you say, soldier." She mock salutes Kowalski, which sends him into a sputtering rant about…ranks. One day she'll push too hard and he'll finally yield. Her grin slips a little, apologetic—she keeps getting him in trouble and not once has he complained.

"Yesterday, before Skipper—" interrupted a moment she'd like to forget, but it's seared into her brain and like a guilty pleasure she keeps remembering it and keeps replacing one of the key players with someone else, and she really is pathetic, "_you know._ What was the name of the song?"

"Rachmaninoff 's Symphonic Dances Op. 45-1. Non-Allegro." To her it all sounds like gibberish.

"Rockmysocks…off? Well. It was my favorite."

"_Rachami_—you've only heard a few mere seconds. You cannot possibly form a—"

"Kowalski, shut up. It was _my_ favorite _incomplete_ piece. When you're done being grounded…"

"_Momentarily Suspended—_"

"…find me. I'd like to finish it. With you."

She's caught in the moment again, or something, because Kowalski's annoyance disappears, swiftly replaced by genuine surprise and she too is surprised, all she wanted to do was apologize, poke fun at him for a little and be on her merry way. Somehow she always ends up doing the opposite, and it's always with a smile on her face.

"If you wish, I have a list of other composers I'm sure you'd—"

"_I_ liked Rockmysocks-off."

"_Rach-Rawwwk—_"

"Shut up. Go. Don't have too much fun, remember you're grounded!"

"For pity sake, I am not grou—"

"Rocky next week, then?"

"Yes, fine, but its _Rach—_"

"Kowalski."

He points a firm flipper at her, "This is most certainty not over!"

Oh. She knows.

"Whatever. Bye." That's why she's both teasing him and suppressing the rising excitement in her gut. One can never go wrong with music.

And pushing Kowalski's buttons is rapidly becoming a new addicting hobby.

--

"I order you to do something about this!"

That's Julien. Yelling at her. Quite animatedly. She's not even sure how Maurice convinced her to stand in front of the self-proclaimed king of the zoo, but here she is wasting another afternoon because of Julien! She lowers her head, a sorry plead of forgiveness on the tip of her tongue to whatever spirit she had offended, because this? This must be punishment for a past terrible, horrible, wrongdoing and she must atone before it happens again.

"What?" she asks in irritation. She's still in front of Julien. Obviously an apology is not good enough. _Humph_.

"You Silly Little Otter! That irritating Penguin has become most insufferable now that you have done the 'dumping of him'," Julien sticks his nose up in the air and waves a limp wrist at the shorter lemur, "tell her Maurice!"

Maurice stares at her levelly before exploding in a ball of fur and righteous fury, "Skipper's annoying the popcorn out of everyone!"

"It's true!" Mort exclaims jovially, jumping obviously not one to be left out of a party. She blinks down at him and his freakishly adorable face, before looking at Maurice's tired one, and finally settling on Julien.

Julien senses her bewilderment for he speaks again in a voice not fitting his usual self-loving demeanor, "Silly Otter, the Annoying Penguin has decided to use me and my loyal subjects as, how you say…? Escape lemurs."

Marlene feels like she's been thrown into an alternate reality. One in which Julien makes sense, Mort is not adorable, and Maurice rules with an iron fist of stupid-_logic,_ which by all accounts makes no sense. Like now. She was enjoying her lunch, minding her own business, thinking of the things she needed to do before the day was done. So this? This is something she had not expected. Marlene looks around skeptically to see if someone's playing a tasteless prank on her.

Finding no culprit, she asks the only thing she can come up with, "..._What_?"

"I shall be making this easy for you, Marlene, as I have prepared some, excellent if I do say so myself, ideas." He grins at her leaning forward, "Maurice."

Julien rarely makes sense. But now? The short lemur clears his throat, looks at her apologetically and starts reciting, "Make up with him or something! Tell him to take his down-in-the-dumpiness somewhere else! Or maybe tell him the truth: you've remembered how madly in love with me—king Julien, ruler of this Zoo, magnificent, regal, and _still_ a great catch by the way— you were and no longer want his uppiditiness messing with your new boyfriend's awesome bachelor pad."

…_What…_ "_What?"_

"Marlene, I shall do the leveling with you. How can _I, _the King, enjoy his leisure off-time if the crazy penguin is always pestering him about his ex-girlfriend and Cow acting lovey-dovey!?"

"_WHAT?" _Her fur stands on edge, her teeth grind together painfully, her eye twitching vehemently. She's trying to remember her breathing exercises; she's even counting to ten.

"Yes, I too am confused as how a cow got into the zoo—Hey! Hey! Where are you going? I decree that you do as I said! No more annoying crazy penguins around my bouncy! No more!"

Marlene doesn't hear him. She needs to find Skipper.

--

"What is your problem!" She nearly screams into the small penguin quarter, Skipper's the first to respond so instantly she's pressed against the floor. She can feel one of Skipper's flippers on her shoulder and another perched dangerously close to her neck. He relaxes his grip a little, Marlene can only guess it's because she's not a threat to him, and she uses the advantage to knock him off her.

"What can we do for you, Marlene?" Skipper is unconcerned of her anger, or if he is he's making a damn good job of hiding it. Kowalski's instantly at her side helping her up and motioning to Rico to come over too. She pays it no attention.

"Oh, oh, you want to play it like that? Fine! Julien—_Julien!_— just _demanded_ that I 'undump' you, which is funny because last time I checked _you_ dumped _me_-you--I mean we weren't toge—I mean I hoped but—" The words seem to die somewhere in her throat when Kowalski's grip tightens around her shoulder and arm painfully, and she's brought back to reality where there is an audience and she never thought she'd be one of _those_ animals, the ones that argues in front of a crowd anytime, anywhere over inane things. The shame is bitter against her tongue, but she's not backing out.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Kowalski! Rico! Back to work. I'll deal with Marlene."

"But Skipp-" Private starts, and cuts himself off quickly spotting Skipper's glare, "Oh. Um, never mind sir."

Kowalski sends her a furtive concerned glance before dropping his supportive flipper, (there was something else behind it, like defeat or acceptance or resignation, _something_, which made her feel perhaps the concerned glance was not entirely for her sake so she wants to say something reassuring to him which is really the opposite of why she's _here_ in the first place), just as Rico and Private stare incredously at Skipper. Then they're gone.

She feels suddenly very alone and very small, and very silly, and still very angry, but mostly she feels _hurt_. Because it's Skipper, Skipper who had never let her down.

Marlene faces him, arms at her side, voice tight, steady, a thread away from breaking, "You shouldn't bully others--"

"Every move we make is calculated. We are at no fault for your misguided view on things, Marlene." She hates how he says her name. When he says it, it seeps of intimacy she had wanted to server and it was weakening her already feeble resolve. The standard procedure voice to the rest of his sentence fuels her anger well enough though.

"And you should always confront your problems!"

"I believe I've already made it clear, Marlene; our actions are careful, concise and—"

"Then stop it. It's not fair. You said we're only--you have no right to--you, I mean we weren't--you did this in the first place! Because I like yo—"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Marlene."

Marlene and Skipper stare at each other at an impasse; here for a moment of tired clarity, she understands him.

Fear is something Skipper will always pretend does not exist. And whatever allergy he had towards intimacy and her, well. It should be 'water under the bridge' as Kowalski would so aptly say. Skipper will never admit to anything. There. Admittance to a problem is the first step of recovery. At least hers.

"No. I suppose you wouldn't."

It's just that she finds it harder and harder to let go. She rolls her eyes ready to leave, but she stops and stares at Skipper calmly.

"By the way, Julien said he'd love for you to come by more often. He, uh, enjoys your company and rugged good looks."

At least she can kill two annoying bird(s) (and a lemur) with one stone.

What a morbid metaphor— Marlene smiles wickedly at Skipper's appalled expression—fitting though.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Chapter four. If you didn't catch it, Mozzarella= Mozart. He must be rolling in his grave. The songs I refer to (found on YouTube): Mozart's Symphony no. 40 - 1st movement (watch?v=l45DAuXYSIs); Vivaldi: Winter I (watch?v=w8dq9NodWDY), and Rachmaninoff: Symphonic Dances Op. 45-1 Non Allegro (watch?v=1LpdCFSuRHc&feature=related) in that order (and this fic is really synchronized to Vivaldi's Winter I).

All favorite songs/composers of mine, because, yes. I am in fact a lover of all things classical. And yes, I know. It shows. My justification? Marlene has been shown on several occasions to be a music aficionado. I just went and expanded that a bit more.

Feedback is awesome.


	5. Mamihlapinatapei

A/N: The title of this chapter is a Yagan word I found online long ago and it stuck with me. It is one of my favorite words for it's the eloquent way to say: "A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start."

It fits the chapter like a wet, soggy, puzzle piece fits within the entire picture: almost, not quite.

Dedicated to Monsy 38 and Karashi for being amazing and supportive, and patient with me--and to every reader and reviewer out there, thank you for reading!

Please enjoy!

[Standard Disclaimers apply]

* * *

Chapter 5: Mamihlapinatapei

The day starts terribly. She's assaulted by the embarrassment of being caught doing something 'inappropriate', scolded like a child and told she's not allowed time with her playmate or else.

She doesn't know what the 'or else' thing means; to her it's like a big shiny sticker saying she has to do the opposite. Of course, she does.

Marlene understands what the 'or else' means now. She finds herself sniffing miserably. Her eyes, like her lungs, burn, her stomach clenched uncomfortably tight-- she feels like she's about to burst. She can't control the tears that roll down her cheeks, ashamed of how little self-control she has and that a simple reflex like doing the opposite of what Skipper tells her would leave her in such a mess.

She takes a steadying breath, "He-he really did that?"

Private nods furiously, "Yes, why he even threw in 'Mama, he's got me!' for realism sake."

Marlene, as she bends over giggling trying desperately to catch her breath, spies Kowalski's glare of indignity. It only makes her laugh harder.

"Ko-Kowalski! That's--" she can't even finish the sentence, much less the thought. Apparently doing the opposite of what Skipper tells her means Kowalski will have a babysitter (which makes her snort through her giggles).

"It was for Private's mental well being!"

The comment sends her into another fit of hysterical laughter until she's flailing so much she's about to fall over herself. Kowalski grabs her shoulder steadying her, face the very mask of annoyed petulance. Wiping the tears from her face heaving a contented sigh, she pats the flipper on her shoulder.

"I'm-I'm sure it was." His glare, if possible, turns darker.

"You should see him try to dance!" Private blurts giggling, covering his beak as if he's just revealed a secret he had been dying to reveal. Marlene thinks Private is brilliant, because the image of Kowalski dancing spikes her curiosity as she glances at the now spluttering penguin. Grinning conspirationally she bumps her hip against his, "Dance? Show me!"

"No." Her smile falls. Mood Killer. Marlene rolls her eyes as she grabs his flippers and gives it a firm tug "Come on, it'll be fun!"

He resists immediately, "No. I do not understand how emba—H-hey! HEY!"

"Come on, Kowalski, I bet you're good!"

Kowalski squirms trying to get away from her tickling, swatting away her paws. This only makes him trip over him own feet. Panicked, he lurches and grabs her arm to stabilize his body once more. This does not work for he pulls her into him, rolls clumsily over his own body then hers, and along with it he not only knocks her breath out, he also smacks his head against her forehead so painfully—so freaking painfully—stars burst behind her eyes and a new tears roll down her face.

Then they come to an abrupt, clumsy stop.

For a moment nothing happens. They're both trying to gather their wits again (well she's trying to make the throbbing in her head stop and gather her breath because suddenly she can't seem to). The reason for her current misery sits on top of her, staring in pain and confusion. Then his mouth twitches around the edges as he curls his flippers and trusts them up energetically, "Ha-ha! Victory!"

"You just got lucky!" She growls as she tries to shove him; he's sturdy and unmovable and arrogant, "Sorry Marlene, my superio--"

Private coughs loudly, startling them both--she takes the opportunity of momentary shock to knock Kowalski off her, he scrambles to help her up and then move right next to Private who looks anxious to leave. Marlene rubs her forehead trying to soothe the pressure developing there.

"Er--I think we should start heading back--"

"Wait," Marlene nearly bowls Private over in her haste to stop him from leaving, her head throbs in displeasure to remind her she's an idiot and should move more carefully, "you're Kowalski's chaperon for today and we haven't even listened to Rocky yet!"

Kowalski, who groans despairingly, obviously thought she was acting childishly, "Marlene, I know you would believe it otherwise but Private is not—Rock…It's-it--RACHAMINOFF! Rawwk-aaaah--miiii--"

Private and Marlene both, dutifully, ignore him, "I suppose so, but,"

"Don't go, don't go! Please? I'd love to--"

Kowalski tries to step between them, finally very aware his opinions were being disregarded.

"I believe I can make my own decisions."

"Kowalski, you're grounded."

"You're suspended!"

Marlene almost laughs at their odd synchronization, Private meets her eyes and for a moment they both wordlessly agree that the situation is really funny, but there are plenty of other things to worry about. Mainly Private's sudden need to leave. It's not that she wants them around, because honestly she knows this is more troublesome for them than it should really be, it's just that it bothers Skipper. And, yes, it's petty. Whatever. He had it coming.

"What do you say, Private?" She learned this a long time ago—if you want to win over someone: always use their name, constantly, with authority and familiarity. It makes them feel special. Also make physical contact. Because everyone wants to be special and this creates a weird bond even if for that specific moment.

"Marlene..." Private wavers on place, twisting his flippers together nervously. She does not break into a wining smile, though her cheeks were starting to twitch in their restraint.

"Could you both stop speaking as if I was not standing right here? Or without an opinion." Marlene almost strangles Kowalski for interrupting Private's indecision. Obviously he doesn't realize what great effort it takes to convince someone to do something they will later regret. Plus she has a headache!

Marlene perseveres with as sweet a voice she can manage, "Please?"

Private looks up at her with amazed wonder, tells her, "Kowalski was right! You _are_ a sneaky manipulator."

"Uh, yeah, that's nice. Will you stay?"

The choice is made for them when Kowalski nudges Private and they both turn to wave back at a clearly annoyed Skipper and an apologetic Rico. Rico is not much of a look out. She frowns in disappointment.

"Next time for sure, Marlene." Her spirits lift and she smiles brightly at the words.

Because it's Kowalski, not Private, who makes the promise even though he had already promised the same thing before, but she doesn't mind. Because this time it's not an obligation, or blackmail, or resignation or a threat. It's Kowalski making a promise.

"Good. You bring the candy next time though. You owe me gummy bears."

--

Kowalski is to visit her that day; she's excited.

Marlene hadn't seen him much since she tricked Private and made Kowalski her personal mathematician to rearrange her habitat's furniture a few days back. Although she wanted to spend time bothering Kowalski, she was more invested on the stolen camera she got from one of the tourist the same day. Truthfully, she was hoping he could help her with the mechanics of it, but upon seeing his face, excitement melts into apprehension.

He sits on his favorite spot, and taps his chin once, twice, then looks at her mutely.

"Yeah, hi. I'm doing well, thanks for asking." The sarcasm is to buffer whatever it is that's bothering Kowalski. His silence always makes her nervous.

"Apologies, Marlene. I am glad you are doing well." He says blankly. The room's temperature seems to plummet, which she knows is impossibility. Kowalski would totally back her up in that regard.

"So?" She finally asks.

"Doris wants to be my friend." It is said so straightforwardly she's not sure if it's an accusing or conversational remark.

She does not hesitate to answer, "Well, Doris' smart."

His eyes flash in recognition, which is the only clear thing between them so far.

That's the end of that. She bites her lower lip trying not to stare but she's intimately acquainted with rejection and _it_ coming every so often to remind her of its existance. Marlene sits next to him hoping quiet support works for him. After a moment, she leans on his shoulder ignoring the uncomfortable shift between them.

He remains silent. She frowns disapprovingly.

Usually he'd protests. It can't possibly be that she mistook his early jealousy towards Rico and the flamingos as a step towards getting over his heartbreak? Was he still pining over Doris? Was Doris maybe just trying to worm herself into Kowalski's life so they could give it another go? She's heard of stories like that, when the first date is a failure but then the next few ones are great because expectations are lower and everyone can relax. Anger boils in her veins, indignant at her own speculation and the possibility that Kowalski was still, or that Doris--

"Being friends isn't so bad, is it?"

She waits for a long tense moment before Kowalski finally answers, cautiously as if he's not weighted all the options yet. "No it is not."

She doesn't know if he means that as a double negative, or if he means it like everyone else would mean it. But Marlene sighs in relief before grinning and tugging his flipper, "Hey, hey! Let's go play a prank on Julien; he's been pestering me for a date."

Crookedly, He grins back proudly brandishing his notepad (she had missed it), "I've come up with some options."

--

Marlene makes sure to sit on a corner away from Kowalski and his electrical cord. After stuffing one of Julien's many pillows with a few fish, Marlene made Kowalski swear he'd come over the next day so they could finally get his promise over with.

This electrical mess, however, had not been what she meant. Marlene had expected something more, well she was not sure what she had expected, but it was not this technical, mechanical or messy. That she was pretty sure of it. But Kowalski is nothing but thorough and she is starting to find his perfectionist nature sweet if problematic and time consuming.

"You know you don't need to go through all this trouble." Although she is still very, very flattered.

"Rimsky-Korsakov deserves nothing but the best." Oh. Look, there goes her good mood. Again. Kowalski was an expert at ruining them. And missing the point. For being such a genius Kowalski is really naive.

She frowns, vengefully, "Rocky too?"

"Rachmaninoff." The response is so automatic she doesn't even get an annoyed glare anymore which really takes away the fun of even mentioning the malapropism, "And yes, he deserves nothing but the best too."

Kowalski has spent a good portion of his morning (and hers too, she supposes) moving cables and hiding them inconspicuously so no one (Alice, or any other curious human) notices them.

Although she's very excited over the entire thing, she's also very interested as why he's risking so much, "Kowalski?"

"Yes?" he asks quite distractedly.

"Isn't this too much? We could go to your place and list—"

"No!" She blinks at his outburst just as he tries to gather his thoughts once more. His gaze turns back to the cables, overlooking her as he sets to bury himself in his work once again.

"We do not have the same acoustic qualities as your habitat." He says after a long while.

He finishes, stands straight and walks a few paces backwards surveying his work. She comes up next to him admiring his work. Which is very true. He's probably trying to find some mistake. She's in awe at the quality of his dedication.

Marlene feels him tensing next to her, his words clipped; "It…is more intimate this way too."

She lets that statement sink. Turning slightly, Marlene scrunches her face, "Kowalski…are you trying to seduce me with good music?"

"I, no! Er, well it—"

Rolling her eyes she shoves him slight with her shoulder, "Knock it off, Kowalski. It's working. So press play already."

Kowalski does not. Instead, oh so helpfully, he just stares at her.

She huffs, leaning forward and clicking play, "I'll do it then. Kowalski I swear you can't take a joke."

He doesn't respond then either, if anything his early energetic mood goes completely missing. For the remainder of the evening Kowalski stares at her blandly, sits in his corner and comments about the music in an informative, monotone voice as if questioned.

This is…awkward. This is exactly what she had not expected from Kowalski. Okay, she did expect the awkward, what she had not expected was his monosyllabatic answers. Kowalski was not a penguin of few words after all. Kowalski was not a lot of things. But how would she really know anyway?

"You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't think we've ever had a real conversation."

"I believe we've had enriching dialo—"

"Have you ever had a serious relationship?"

"E-excuse me_?"_

Her fur stands on end, "My first boyfriend was a transfer otter from another zoo. He was charming, had rich brown fur and these deep blue eyes, like Skippe--"

"Marlene I am not comfortable with this—"

"Shut up I know, neither am I! It's just. He was my first everything, my first kiss, my first love and my first heartbreak."

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for something, anything, to happen, "Well?"

He doesn't answer, just stares at her with frozen terrified eyes. Feeling pious, disappointed, she lets him off the hook. "'Kowalski's' a funny name. Is that like a codename?"

"N-no. I suppose the humans just gave me the name, and it stuck." Oh sure _that_ he can answer without any problem. She knows that being annoyed, feeling let down, or anything of the sort because Kowalski _fails_ at this entire thing is stupid and a waste of energy. But she's upset, annoyed, and totally feeling like she's been let down. Kowalski will not open up with his deepest darkest secrets, and she had come to accept this before. Or so she thought. Now she's trying to grasp at anything so, well. That's something else she's not sure about, but it's like standing right in front of a precipice. Either you jump or you walk away. For whatever, _crazystupidmoronic_, reason she wants to pass said threshold.

"What's your real name, then?" Answer, answer, answer.

"I don't know."

Marlene bristles. This feels a lot like when Skipper said there would be no way _he_ and _she_ would ever be a _they_. And she knows she's being unjustified when she sticks her tongue out at him and pelts him with the gummy bears he had brought.

"You're so annoying, tell me something, anything!"

Kowalski grimaces wiping away the gummy bears she licked and threw so they'd stick. "A square plus B square equals C squa—"

"Fine. Be that way!"

She sits back into the wall refusing to meet his expectant stare.

"If it helps, I believe the candy reci…" he trails off, gazing off to the side too. Kowalski really fails at the whole 'having emotions and talking about them' thing.

She curls into herself and places her chin on crossed arms when she can't catch his eye, "I like Rachmaninoff."

There. A peace offering. She doesn't like being upset with others and she finds she doesn't really like being upset with this particular penguin most of all.

He snaps his gaze back to her, surprised, annoyed, delighted, she can't tell anymore. He does his best to smile brightly, but it's not very convincing, "Really?"

"Yup! I thought, I mean we could do this again, right?"

"Right."

"Unless, unless you didn't like it, which is fine! I mean, not everyone likes the same things right?"

"Right."

"And the composers you choose—"

"Rachmaninoff and Rimsky-Korsakov—"

Her patience breaks, "Kowalski, I swear if you say 'right', 'really' or anything else starting with an 'r' I will--"

"Roger."

She jumps him.

"Um, is this a bad time? Because I can totally come back. Hey weren't you like, totally pining over Skipper? Oh wow! Are those new paintings by those pillows? I Lo_ve_ them!"

Marlene climbs off Kowalski, sheepishly dusting her fur off. Slowly turns to Roger who was squinting at her wall with astonished delight, "Good evening Roger how are you today?"

--

After a hasty, but _strategic _retreat from Kowalski, she stands in her home alone with the towering lizard that is Roger.

Roger, for as long as she has known him, has always been weird. Weird as in very nosy, far too friendly, and a tad bit too bright for her liking. And he was only visiting because he wanted to borrow some paint and paintbrushes. She tells him she ruined hers. Had to borrow Rico's. She has some paint in the back he could borrow though.

Even with the things he needed on arm, Roger doesn't leave. He just grins affably at her, all sharp teeth showing. Much more intimidating than when she first thought he was a ghost living in a sewer. She considers him dubious. Tricky, a wonderful singer, better choreographer and vey, very, oh so very nosy.

"So?" He finally asks, obviously trying but failing at containing the eagerness in his voice, like he just got a morsel of food he had been dying to nibble on.

"So?" She responds, threading lightly.

"Aw, come on! Tell me what's going on, what's happening, whatcha up to with Kowalski? He has a lovely voice you know, although Private is surprisingly talented, has he serenaded to you yet? I thought you and Skipper were dating—he's a great singer too and you wouldn't believe what an amazing dancer he is! So, hey what's with Kowalski and you? It looked like you guys were getting quite cozy—Oh no! Sorry if I interrupted anything, but you know I just _had_ to get new brushes, when inspiration hits you just gotta follow its lead, so?" He stops, calmly breathes through his nose, "You. Kowalski. Details."

Her head spins. Roger talks too much sometimes.

"Kowalski and I are friends." She answers, and as soon as the words fall between her and the giant alligator, she regrets to realize they sound like a really pathetic excuse rather than the truth they were.

"Oh, yeah. And I'm just a little birdie that—though I suppose it would be fun to fly, huh. Still. I sense a _lie_."

"No! It's true, I mean at first we were just acquaintances but then, okay, okay, long story short, Kowalski really _is_ a friend. I don't think I'm ready for a new relationship anyway."

"Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"That's so boring! I was expecting like a duel between Kowalski and Skipper, oh the tragedy! Skipper trying to regain his lost love from his own brother in arms!"

"Roger…"

"Sorry, I can't help it. It'd be a great soap."

"Okay, my love life, or lack of love life really, is not material for a soap!"

"It totally is!"

"No it's not!"

"So what does Skipper think of you and Kowalski canoodling?"

"Canoo—no. No. Kowalski and I, like I already said, are _friends. _FRIENDS. We hang out, eat too much sugar and listen to music."

"Oh. You know that sounds a lot like a _date_."

"Roger!"

He tsks at her and for a second time in a week, she feels like a kid being scolded, "You're really naive, Marlene."

She does not appreciate the accusation. "Weren't you about to go paint?"

"I hope you don't end up heartbroken." Roger shakes his head at her.

Marlene feels she's obligated to tell him she's already _heartbroken_. And it was due to Skipper. But she doesn't need to justify anything. She points her nose up, "I'll be _fine."_

In a voice that sounds very unconvinced and very condescending, Roger says: "Okay~! Tell me what happens when things fall through."

"Sure, Roger." She plans to do no such thing. _Nothing's_ going to fall through.

And Kowalski is her friend. Nothing else.

But still her mouth is opening and forming words before she could help it, "What about Kowalski?"

"What _about _Kowalski?"

"Is he a good dancer too, I mean?"

Roger's smile is very, very slow and knowing. "Well..."

Curiosity really killed the otter.

---

"So, what whacky adventure did you engage in today?

"They're not whacky adventures; they're complicated missions that require--"

"I know, Kowalski. That was a joke."

"Oh."

It's really weird between them, but they sit outside her habitat near the water--they're angled so they can see Julien's self-centered existence in all its colorful glory. It's a lazy afternoon and she was surprised when he showed up and gave her a few sardines and a sheepish--lame--excuse so they could hang out since last time Roger had visited.

His excuse sounded like something Private would say. She doesn't call Kowalski out on it. Mostly because she's astonished he's not out doing something crazy and wildly out of line with Skipper and the rest of the team. Marlene almost asks him, but then that brings out a bunch of other questions she'd rather not ask.

"You know, I'm really surprised Skipper's letting you out of his sight." But she did anyway._ Mouth, please kindly wait for my brain._

"Erm. He thinks it's better if I get _it _out of my system."

"Get what out of your system? Are you sick?"

Was he trying to get her sick too? She asks but doesn't receive an answer (he looks like he's contemplating it though).

"Not sick per se, though some cultures do believe _it _to be an affliction."

"Huh?"

"I mean. It's... You?"

"I'm…a…sickness…?" All she does is stare at him, Kowalski tries to correct himself, "He did the same thing when he met you!"

"He-- who's--_wha_--"

"Forget it. I must return to my lab, anyway."

"Oh, okay." She hadn't meant to sound so cold and dismissive. In fact, she had meant to say "so soon?" but somehow, thank you Roger, the words seem almost taboo.

Kowalski, for his part, stands but doesn't make a move to leave.

"So, I'll uh-see you around then?" He asks awkwardly.

"Yeah, I guess so?"

They stare at each other for a while longer, she with curiosity and he with an air of annoyed disappointment and disapproval, which is an odd combination of emotions to see on the usually cool and composed Kowalski. Finally, he nods curtly at her and leaves.

And Marlene? Marlene's just blinking in confusion at the spot where Kowalski used to stand, _almost_ and _maybe _is still between them, subtle and perpetual, and she has no clue what it's trying to say. All she knows is that it's doing a great job at giving her a headache.

--

Things are a bit..._strained_ between her and Kowalski afterward, (and they're completely decimated between her and Skipper, but who's counting), so when he grabs her arm, pushes her into a corner, and starts whispering rapidly to her one fine morning, she's practically having a heart attack while her stomach tries to twist around itself. It's been a long time since she's had been _this_ intimately close to someone and she's distinctly aware of fish, and burnt feathers, and copper, and warmth, and comfort, and Skipper (of all penguins) and the tensing of her shoulders where he puts his flippers, and of his beak so close to her ear.

"W-what?" she finally splutters out, oh so intelligently. He sighs; frustrated he has to repeat himself.

"I am about to embark on a mission. So, erm, Mission Funday will have to wait until later."

"Oh." She had forgotten all about Mission Funday.

"The zoo will be unprotected while we're gone, so be careful of the lemurs and the freakishly mutated rat in the sewer." He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, "I, er, we will be back soon."

"O-oh. Okay. Well, good luck." She supposes that's appropriate even if everything seems strange and warped at the moment, but she waves at Private and Rico and Skipper too, though she knows encouraging such stupid behavior is downright negligent. It seems important to them, so she tries to be supportive.

"Thank you." Kowalski smiles plaintively at her, and the world seems to misalign again, whatever weirdness that was between them momentarily intensified three times over its own existence.

Unsure of what to do, or if she should apologize (which she would not do) Marlene rubs one arm, "When will—"

"Kowalski! For Pete's sake! You can have your long sappy good-byes when you come back. We gotta focus on preparations."

"Skipper," Kowalski says not breaking eye contact with her, (it's supposed to mean something but somehow she's missing all the clues), "its not--"

"Come on man, move!"

"Sir!" Kowalski nearly knocks her down with his wing trying to salute, "Watch it!"

"Ah, my sincerest apolo-!"

"It's fine, it's fine, just. You'll have to make it up to me when you come back." Which is as close to saying 'come back safe' as she'll ever get.

"Deal." Kowalski tells her, lingering for just a moment. He has this weird glazed-over look to his face. Also a very strange expression to see on Kowalski. Abruptly he leans down. Taken-back by Kowalski's sudden proximity, Marlene immediately retracts her head, suddenly very, _very_ nervous. He jerks back sharply too as if crashing back to reality— she can almost hear an embarrassed, strangled, apology forming in the back of his throat.

"Good luck!" She says again trying very hard not to show how weird she felt the situation was or to let it affect her, or him or their relationship or anything really.

"I'll-I'll make it _all _up to you." Kowalski looks mortified before he nods at her. Then he's gone with the rest of the troop, but then she's standing in the middle of her habitat.

Alone.

Marlene frowns at the ground underneath her. She feels...slightly guilty and abandoned and like she just seriously messed up. Which is stupid, but she can't help what she feels. Besides, she has to remember: with the right attitude she can make any situation better.

The question is what situation and…does she really want it to be better?

* * *

A/N: This is incredibly late. Please blame Life for being so inconvenient. This chapter was hard to write for this fic is halfway done and things need to start progressing. I hope I didn't disappoint.

That aside, reviews are my new addiction. So. :D


	6. Inquinate

A/N: This is my favorite chapter.

Definition of title: to pollute

Dedicated to Monsy 38, and every single one of you out there that reads, reviews, and are just so wonderful. Thank you for the encouragement, kind words, and for sticking with me so far!

Please enjoy.

[Standard Disclaimers Apply]

* * *

Chapter 6: Inquinate

She's entirely amused by the robots Kowalski, no doubt, constructed and animated. They're so ingenious she wonders if she could get one.

The robots 'eat' the fish, splash around the water for a second --never more-- and then go back inside the hatch so Alice doesn't look too closely their way. Right now, since it's very early in the morning, they're moving around haphazardly. They're probably programmed to stay out for a bit so the zookeepers don't go around looking inside the habitat.

Marlene smiles fondly at the robots as they wave at her. Kowalski really is… amazing. She freezes on spot, eyes trained on the tallest of the robot-penguins. Quickly she shakes her head. She had made a deal with herself last night not to fuss over…things. That means keeping a distance from Kowalski-related—oh who is she kidding? She was planning on scribbling on their faces as soon as she got the chance, it's just.

Kowalski was—Marlene blinks at the weird violent lurch her stomach did. Distractedly, she notices Skipper's robot falling over. Causally sauntering to it, Marlene feels extremely odd staring down at Skipper, even if it's a doppelganger. Even so, she feels like she owes a debt of gratitude towards the sudden distraction.

"Hi Skipper." She says kindly, before bursting in a fit of giggles as it flails. Quickly, she bends and picks him up, struggling to keep them both upright, he weights more than she thought he would. Satisfied with her work she smiles at Skipper's own smiling, plastic, fake, face.

"I think I like you like this."

She watches it flounder about again, like it was business as usual to fall and wiggle cutely in place, "You're actually tolerable." Its response is to continue waving, an affable smile spread wide across his beak, never breaking.

Insane, she's insane! Marlene shudders at her own weirdness. She actually, she _actually_, wanted to lean in and kiss the dumb doll. Reflexively, she covers her mouth revolted. Just because it looked like Skipper didn't mean it actually was Skipper. Besides he smelt of burning oil and rubber, and it reminded her of Kowalski, and that was not romantic at all, and that's what she wanted. She wanted stupid things.

Marlene turns just in time to catch the tallest of the robots before it falls into their pool of water. She palms him awkwardly. This is Kowalski, Marlene thinks dumbly. Kowalski.

Kowalski who she—Marlene swiftly cuts the train of thought by sitting down and drawing her knees up to her chest. She makes sure to keep the robots from doing something absurdly stupid. Like Rico's who's trying to go through a wall. She laughs at it for a moment, truly amused for the first time in a while.

Nostalgia hits her hard.

Irrationally, she buries her face on her crossed arms once again, she misses Kowalski. It's been less than a day. That's ridiculous, she knows. They're tentative friends at worst and strangers at best, and she misses him. One doesn't miss a stranger!

Fine, fine. She's being silly, of course Kowalski is more than a stranger to her, he went and hooked up a bunch of electronic devices for her and she only had to ask. Strangers didn't do that for free. Friends did. But friends also shared about their past even if ambiguous.

Marlene lets out a strangled groan. They parted in weird, vague but ultimately bad terms. That's why she's like this. That's all. Kowalski is good company and she misses the company. Marlene feels like glass—brittle and fragile, and weak and frail and those were not words to describe her, _ever _and no one would know, but _she_ knows and it is guilt still gnawing in the back of her head, grating on fraying nerves.

Slowly she lifts her head. Watches the replica of his body wonder to her— a plastic expression plastered on his face—like she's about to crack. She holds her breath for a second too long, her mind playing awful tricks on her.

It waddles right past her. She doesn't reach out for it—she wants to.

--

There is a note posted on the penguin's doorframe. It's just a drawing of a circle with a bar cutting across diagonally. Apparently she's not supposed to go in. Well, she should respect other animal's privacy, she should listen to what they say, and of course she should know that entering and trespassing is a serious offence no matter which animal does it. In fact she's very territorial of her home. Which _they_ always invade.

She nods to herself ripping the note off the wall. Of course she goes into their habitat and of course she goes into their HQ. Of course she finds Julien already inside.

Revenge is _sweet_.

"Eeeh…What are you doing here?" He asks trying to hide the mess he had already managed to start.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Marlene parrots back striding in and munching on some of the snacks he's already displayed out. His brows raise and his mouth turns up in a pleased, if some what grateful, smile.

"Touché."

"Sooo," she plops across of him shuffling the deck of card she picked up from the floor, "what are we playing, Julien?"

--

They play card games, eat some of the penguin's delicious food and rummage through their things with an air of bored casualty—because they are. Bored out of their skulls. The penguins, for having an impressive array of weapons, lack just about everything else that could be identified as fun. Excluding Doll, and Private's arts and crafts bag shoved in a corner, and she's _not_ about to make friendship bracelets with Julien. Though _he_ did. Every time he gestures with his right arm, it jingles prettily as each bead clash against each other. Julien is inordinately in love with his work and strives to annoy Marlene with it.

She's very proud of herself for not stringing it around his neck and pulling. _Hard._

The few things she found interesting were Kowalski's remarkable collection of CDs and Rico's explosive. Private has a lot of doodles under his bed and it makes her wonder if maybe they could work together on a painting. Rico, Maurice, him, Roger and herself. It would be amazing. They could do it on the plastic volcano. Paint a giant volcano on the giant plastic volcano. It'd be an irony even the art-illiterate could appreciate! She tucks her idea in the back of her head for later when she sees Maurice and Roger, and Rico and Private.

Marlene didn't touch Skipper's but Julien eagerly stuck his head in and withdrew mounds of papers and papers, blueprints that were far more complicated for either Julien or herself to really read, or comprehend. Julien gives her a conspiring smile dipping his finger in blue paint and drawing his face over each and every document he could find.

"Aahhh. Revenge is _sweet_." Marlene returns the smile. She couldn't agree more.

Eventually he passes out in a corner. She grimaces at his limp form. Julien is really selfish, now she's alone and alone in a messy room.

For a moment she pauses and thinks of Kowalski and how he's doing and doesn't linger too much on it, because then she'll really start missing him again and she doesn't want to miss him right now. Right now she wants fun. Wants to have fun. Fun fun fun.

"Ugh, what's wrong with me?" She asks aloud, running a gentle fist over her eyes.

"Well, I would start by getting more sleep; those bags under your eyes do _nothing_ for you." She lets out a stifled scream, turning around to find Julien dusting off the cheese puffs they were eating earlier. Marlene thought he had fallen in a junk-food-induced coma, and now feels robbed that he had _not_.

"It was a rhetorical question, Julien."

"Marlene…it is KING Julien. Our previous, tremulous, relationship cannot, and will not trust me I asked Maurice to check the books, justify—"

"Wil you _ever_ shut up about that?"

"Do you?! Oh. Wait—"

She sighs tiredly. Marlene has been working and moving constantly since the penguins left, and now she's exhausted to the bone. She had been fine until she made the mistake to hang with Julien—he's a league of his own. Carefully she lays her forehead on the bottom bunk's metal frame, lightly running a paw over the stark white cover. She closes her eyes deciding that she's over trying to have fun.

"Marlene?" Is that worry on Julien's voice? Or is that just fatigue playing tricks on her?

"Yeah?"

"That looks most uncomfortable."

"It's fine."

"Really?" She can hear him scurry over, settling down to imitate her, beads clinking happily. "What would you know! It is!"

Julien, oh Julien. At least he's entertaining.

"It's starting to give me a crick though."

"Move then."

He doesn't. In fact she can feel him scooting closer to her. Marlene turns her head so she can properly glare a warning. She can't force her eyes open though, so she settles for an annoyed huff, "What?"

"You know, this could be like our second date."

"There was never any date, Julien. I don't even remember going outside the zoo!"

"Oh, I see. You play with feelings!"

"I don't—"

"Yes you do! Just ask the Annoying Penguin. He's always complaining about you." Her eyes fly open. Julien's face is far too close to her, startling her backwards.

"S-Skipper?"

"Yes, duh. Can never talk about anything else besides you and your cow. I still haven't met your cow by the way. As the king, I must know everyone so they can dutifully worship—"

Marlene places a gentle paw on Julien's mouth. "Shush now."

Surprisingly he does. Maybe he was just being nice for once, or maybe he's letting this one go because otherwise she'll pin the blame for the mess on him, the penguins would believe her over him after all.

She goes back lay her head on the bed frame, twisting the covers around her paws.

Just thinking about it all give her shivers, but Marlene doesn't know how to stop feeling like she does for Skipper, and well. Maybe Roger was right. She's just going to end up heartbroken again. Heartbroken, "What does Skipper say about me?"

"Do you not wish to know what _I_ say about you?"

Marlene sighs and buries her head deeper into the comforter, "M'kay. First Skipper, though."

--

An addiction is a terrible, terrible thing.

Marlene is addicted. She hadn't even been aware of her addiction until it walked away and she was on her back staring at her still ugly, brown ceiling with sharp jutting rocks lining it, like she had about three weeks ago.

Everything is kind of dull and listless, and she misses the broken monotony of life the penguins always throw their way. Julien, while fun for a while, exists in a realm for only his own gain. There is very little room there, his ego, self-delusion, love for himself, Maurice's servitude and Mort's adoration all fill it up. As much as she would love to spend time with him and lose her self in his fake grandeur, it's an empty manner to fill up distress. Plus he never _did_ say anything useful about Skipper and what he says about her. Kept getting distracted, and she kept getting distracted by the lull of sleep.

Frustrated, she rolls to her side and clenches her eyes willing sleep to come now that really wants to sleep—it doesn't. The only thing that she gets is sad and lonely and she's so over that. Skipper is past news, and Kowalski is not her only friend.

It just feels like it.

Besides Kowalski was going to, he was leaning in and about to—but maybe she blew it out of proportion. What if he was only going to hug her? He looked embarrassed, what if it was because she misunderstood _him_ and he was mortified for her sake? Marlene groans covering her face with both paws. Great, just great. She totally messed up. Jumping to conclusions and now she's not only feeling the bite of remorse, but of guilt, and this weird feeling of…she's not sure what it is just that it turns her stomach and she wants to throw up, and that she feels somehow letdown .

She sighs.

Maybe she'll hang out with Maurice next time. Maurice and Mort. She pouts a little. Their names rhyme… Does hers? She mulls it in her head for a second.

Marlene and—

--

"You know, even if Skipper doesn't say it, he really _does_ likes you."

Her heart flutters, and strangely enough, it's a very empty feeling. Like a hollow victory.

She splatters more red on the canvas Maurice lent her, "I know, but he's acting like an annoying idiot," she glances towards the gray lemur. His expression is very dark.

"That's his default characteristic." Maurice says, carefully moving his paintbrush in delicate lines. Today Maurice is painting a portrait of his old home in Madagascar. He keeps saying his memory of it is becoming more and more like a distant blurring dream, so he wants something for posterity sake. She can appreciate that. Homesickness. She tries not to think of home much. Her sisters have children now.

Marlene sighs, stepping back to look at her own painting. It's dull despite the vibrant reds and blues.

"I know that, it's just, I told him, I mean he knew what I was saying and," she hadn't realized how much rejection had affected, because she really didn't want to dwell on it for too long, her body feels boneless, flightless, listless, most of all she feels like her ego had taken a nosedive (for a second she thinks that maybe that's why she keeps thinking of Kowalski as a stranger she's addicted to— because she attached to the first thing that gave her confidence again, but she knows it can't possibly be the only factor), "he basically rejected me."

There. _Way to go Marlene,_ she thinks trying to swallow the weird lump firmly lodged in her throat. She blinks a little too, dust in her eyes.

Maurice barks out a laugh, it makes her fur stand on end. "Since when do you listen to Skipper?"

"It's not that simple!" Her lips quiver, and she takes in a deep breath to keep from bursting. She's not able to keep from sniveling like an idiot though.

"Maurice, can I be honest?"

He doesn't answer, so she takes it as an initiative to continue, "I..." she hesitates, then sighs, "I don't…never mind."

--

She was messing around her own habitat when she spotted a black, white, yellow, and oddly enough—unsynchronized dot.

Marlene turns fully an excited smile on her face, "Kowalski!" she waves eagerly when she sees the familiar penguin. She had missed the crazy penguins and their strange antics, Kowalski most since she's come to really appreciate how his weirdness filled the gap of being alone all the time. She had enough time away from him to realize that whatever that was wrong between them was stupid and needed to be fixed. She liked goofing off with him more than she liked being upset with him. And if he's to be a stranger to her from now on, well she rather him be a stranger than nothing else.

Trying to communicate this fact with Kowalski is impossible though. Her smile quickly falls when she notices something extremely odd. She looks over Kowalski's shoulder. Rico, Private, "Kowalski…W-where's Skipper?"

Kowalski tries to hide a guilty wince.

"Marlene—"

--

"What happened!?" She nearly shrieks as she bursts through the door. When she spots Skipper sitting on a chair holding a Julien-scribbled-on document nonchalantly, neatly bandaged almost from head to toe, the black eye, the split on his beak she knows will never heal right all telling signs of a horrific, horrific...Marlene doesn't know what it was, she just wants to cry, but his face does not give room for sympathy (but she can't help it, she has to wipe her eyes anyway).

She stands in front of him trying to purge out of her mind the idea of vulnerable Skipper, even if it is suddenly very real.

"Classified." He states, voice rough, dry, raw but still commanding. Marlene feels a familiar skip of irritation, and she's nearly relieved by it.

"Is-everything--are you, will you be okay?" She gingerly runs her paws from his forehead, around the white bandage on his cheek to the side of his beak, right where it now disfigures, a slight break, lingering there for one second, down to his bandaged neck and shoulders. She rests her paws on his shoulder. He's tense under her touch. He also smells of sterilization and his black eye makes him seem much more intimidating than necessary or maybe she's kind of just nervous, and jittery and her lunch is stuck in her throat right along with what felt like too many cotton balls. What's really strange about the situation, besides the most obvious, is that he's even letting her.

He laughs a little shaking his head slightly--in a manner that allows her to leave her paws on bandages around his shoulder, she notices.

"Be okay?" He scoffs grandly, "These are nothing. You should of have seen Manfre—"

"You _jerk_!" She hates how dismissive he is, of her, of her feelings, of the fact that he could've, he could've— Marlene doesn't know what posses her to do it, and maybe she'll blame it on heartbreak and relief or the fact that she doesn't know how to describe the terrible feeling of believing she, _they,_ lost him, but before either can blink she has his face firmly between her paws and she's leaning in. At the very last second she turns her head so she catches the corner of his beak. She's ashamed of her cowardice.

When Skipper leans into the kiss, just a little--a tiny, tiny bit and wraps his flippers around the bent form of her elbows, strong, firm, unconsciously pulling her into him, she has to stop herself from actually letting out the sob building insider her throat or turning her head so she can actually kiss him properly.

Marlene throws her arms round his neck breaking contact. She buries her face on his feathered shoulder. His flipper is warm and heavy against her back and she relishes the feel no matter how warped their relationship had become.

It's like this: every time she's with Skipper she learns something new about herself--military life is fun only if it doesn't affect her directly, and now that it has, she can't imagine being worried all the time. Not for Skipper and most definitely not for, not for— Marlene's sob catches in her throat.

"Come on, Marlene. I'm fine, see? These are superficial wounds; I'll be good as new in no time."

Marlene nods face pressed against his neck, because she _knows_, but she can't stop and she's not even sure why or who she's crying for anymore.

She sniffs once, pulls back to look at Skipper, his face new and strange to her but still so familiar. She runs a paw over the white feathers on his chest, the ones that peek through his bandages. She's so close to him she can hear his breathing pattern—short, irregular, shallow—and his body's tense right underneath her paws. Skipper always gave the air of cool confidence so knowing that she could actually affect him so subtlety. Well. It's such a jolt to her system, she's so flattered and amused, and, and at _home_ here with him and she's suddenly aware of how much she'd missed him and—

"You have rough feathers, Skipper." She murmurs, not quite able to look him in the eye.

"All part of my rugged char—" This time she does kiss him.

--

Outside of the bunker she almost falls over Kowalski when she bumps into him.

"H-hey Kowalski! Um. Hey! So, how long have you been waiting there?" she hopes her eyes aren't noticeably red or puffy in the dark lighting.

"Inconsequential." The word feels like a physical slap and it stings but she's not about to break apart because of it. The word simply feels like whatever friendship they had slowly constructed started crumbling away, and part of her is panicking at what that means, and another– the part of her that is exhausted-- has stopped caring.

"Oh. What's up?"

"Here." He fumbles with something before he thrusts it into her paw. She blinks, looks down; it's a rock. Smooth, beautiful, green, round. Kowalski stands in front of her stiffly, waiting for a response, or actually for her to move out of the way. She's blocking the way into the room but she's unwilling to step aside.

"What's this?"

"I said I'd make it up to you. However, I must confess it was Skipper's idea. Said you like practical things. I suppose we...both want you to be happy."

He sends a meaningful glance her way, one she still doesn't understand, doesn't want to. She does understand one thing though, and that's gratefulness. That he's ok, that Skipper is alive, well, and only decommissioned for a couple of weeks, that Rico and Private are well too, and that the rock signifies more than just an apology from Skipper.

"Kowalski this is... amazing!" She clamps unto him practically bouncing in giddiness, she catches him staring at her once again.

"You think so?"

"You dork, of course I do!"

"That's an odd sobriquet you've given me." He comments lightly and she honestly doesn't know what the word means, but he's smiling almost, _almost_, proudly at her, and her heart, her heart does a weird little flutter thing she pretends was just excitement (and relief) at the gift even though it also feels like it's slowly cracking at the edges.

"Um, you're welcome? So, hey, aside from Skipper's mummification, how did the mission go?"

"Brilliantly." It's a change from 'classified', but not that much better. 'Brilliantly' tells her nothing of how Skipper got his injuries.

She can't help it. She's an otter of action, common sense disconnects from her brain sometimes to make room for the idiotic thoughts that come with needing constant movement, "Is Skipper...going to be okay?"

"Rico did an excellent job patching up his wounds. Skipper should be healed in a matter of weeks."

She sighs in relief. Belatedly, she asks, "And-and you? Nothing missing, nothing broken?"

"Me?" he shakes his head, and then repeats plainly, "Inconsequential."

(It's like all those nights ago where he stands in front of her waiting for something, just like she's waiting for something now and there's nothing to wait for, and she wants to yell at him so he can finally fess up and tell her what's really behind this new strain of awkward nothingness between them, she did not spend all that time moping over an almost—).

"Thank you for the gift." She says sincerely. When she leans in to give him a real hug, not acknowledging that she's been craving physical attention for a while, he casually sidesteps her as he makes a flippant comment about the origin of the rock and how it had spent a long time in Rico's stomach so she should wash it before doing anything with it.

He talks to her as if she just inquired an intellectual analysis on the merits of the coloration rather than expressing gratitude. For a long time she lets him continue his observations on the rock not hearing any of his words, until she realizes her arms are in front of her waiting for an embrace that will never happen, and she feels like an idiot, but Kowalski either ignores the frozen gesture, or doesn't register it, or maybe he just can't return it anymore.

When he finally shuts up– there's a slight pause where she stares at his lowered profile, his resigned gaze trained at the edge of nothing and she wants to reach, reassure, him once more—Rico and Private are making their way towards them. Kowalski, Rico, and Private say good night to her. Kowalski doesn't escort her back to her habitat like he usually does.

Her stomach plummets as she stares at the long dark corridor, the beautiful green, round rock that means more than just an apology from Skipper, clenched tightly between her paws.

Marlene doesn't feel _slightly_ abandoned anymore.

* * *

A/N: I ship-teased. Forgive me, for it was fun. All is not lost.

Please let me know what you think.


	7. Rapture

A/N: One of my younger sister was hospitalized recently and my only, slightly younger, brother was missing. They're both fine now. However, this was a difficult chapter for me to write, but it was either write or lose my sanity. Thus, I am sorry if this chapter comes off weird, strange, or confusing, or overly angsty.

Dedicated to Monsy 38 who really helped me with this chapter, the story in general, and listened to my rambles.

FYI: Monsy 38 and Cornflak both are writing Marski fics, The _Irrelevant Equation of 1 plus 1_ and _Divulgation_. Go read them, they're both awesome sauce.

[Standard Disclaimers Apply]

* * *

Chapter 7: Rapture

Marlene goes home even though her brain screamed for her not to do so, but it's too late anyway and regret is firmly lodged in the pit of her stomach but she can't do anything about that; absolutely obsolete even in her attempts to pretend otherwise. She bypasses her bed, which her body, upon seeing it, clamored for, and ignored the molding, rotting sardines she stocked to eat a while back. Later she'll clean it up even though the smell is pungent enough to knock her breath away.

What Marlene does is kneel in front of a cleverly placed mat and yank it off to reveal a rusting, well-used, door.

She's going to the sewer. She needs to see Roger.

Before she tries to open the hatch to jump in, she examines the rock she still held on to. A million thoughts violently clashed, clattered and scattered in her brain. None were happy. Marlene wants to throw the rock as hard as she can across the room.

Doesn't.

It was Skipper's idea, but Kowalski gave it to her, and it feels like it's mocking her every time it glints underneath the light filtering through her small cave. It's was supposed to be an apology but she's not sure from whom because her brain wanted to pretend it was from Skipper even though she knew, if she was telling herself the truth, Kowalski had every intention of giving it to her as a way to, to patch things up between them.

A rock is a rock. And a gift is a gift. And absolution is not so easily gained, right?

There's been this inexplicable, weird and natural, tension between Kowalski and herself lately, and she, unfairly, had been trying to ignore it all since Kowalski was Kowalski and he'd eventually either explode with frustration or resign himself to asking what he wanted, but. But now he was ignoring her, and it, it bothers her immensely!

Not THAT was her biggest problem right now, even it if it was doing a remarkable attempt to crush her, because she, she kissed.

Marlene takes a steadying breath and covers her face with her free paw trying to resist from doing something moronic or irrational. Like cry.

Making up her mind she carefully sets the rock on her pillow. She moves to the other side of her bed, parallel to it and buries her face on her sheets. She gives up.

All she wanted to do was see Roger, but that's an excuse because who she really wanted to see just snubbed her and she's trying to cope with that, but it's so alien a concept to her. Sighing she decides later she'll clean the rock, (and the disgusting sardines) as Kowalski advised and use it to open clams and the world should be fine again.

Because even though Marlene just got everything she wanted, she still feels like she sacrificed a lot for it, and she wonders if it's worth it.

But then again she does not know what she really wants anymore.

(She does, she's denying herself.)

Unexpectedly, Marlene misses Kowalski's rationality.

--

After a good night's sleep (blatant lie) she stretches, goes outside to greet the few humans wondering around her habitat and quickly goes back inside. The small carpet is still crumbled aside, the hatch wide open, cold and dark; like an omen.

Marlene's eyes automatically seek the small rock still on her bed. Frowning, she marches towards it, snatches it, turns and nearly runs out of her cave. When she's in front of her pond she throws it as hard as she can, unduly satisfied with the subdued drowning noise it makes. She's too worn-out to think of the implications.

Back inside she stares down the manhole. It's a long way down, but she's already fallen this far, what's a couple more metaphorical feet?

She jumps down the alligator's hole.

--

"ROGER!"

"What?!"

"You were right; of course you were right, I am just going to end up hurting myself!"

"What are you—"

"I made out with him."

"Really? Oh wow." Roger nearly falls into his beaten couch, dramatically covering his mouth—there is a hint of smug self-satisfaction he's trying to hide that Marlene instantly notices which immediately puts her on edge.

Marlene sits, or more like throws her body, on the couch as Roger starts to pace in front of her, "I did _not_ think Kowalski had it in him. You know, I was just telling him to go for—"

She inhales sharply, because suddenly even just hearing Kowalski's name feels like a punch in the gut, "Kowa? Why, wou." She cuts off when she finds herself panicking, "No. I meant Skipper, the one I like, remember? Why-why would I make-out with Kowalski?"

"Oh. Um. Marlene, seriously?"

"What are you—look I need advice I went and kissed Skipper and—" She forcibly clamps her mouth shut and starts banging her head against the throw pillows on his couch until she remembers that she's still tired and the pillows are provocatively soft.

"What do I do?" Her voice is muffled by the pillows. It sounds different, like someone else is speaking and being pathetic and not her. It makes her feel slightly better.

Roger doesn't say anything, "Roger!" the voice is shrill, and whiny and still totally not her.

"I need advice!"

"You know what's a funny word? Tchotchke."

Anger flares in her, but it dies just as quickly as it was born, "Huh, that is an odd word. What does it mean?"

"Fun story, it's—"

Marlene props herself up, "Roger, you know what 'sobriquet' means?"

"OH! Is Skipper giving you nicknames now? How romantic—"

"No." She doesn't know how to filter her thoughts when she's tired so when she says, "Kowalski mentioned it to me." Marlene just wants to slap her forehead.

"Woah. Okay. So Kowalski is…quite articulate and uh—"

"I think he's upset." She smashes her face back into the flowery-smelling pillow because she really feels like her face is going to betray her. Maybe she should try falling asleep again and deal with everything the next day. Or never. Whichever is more convenient.

"Why?" Roger asks in a soothing tone.

Marlene doesn't really know. "I don't know. I think I insulted him somehow."

"Are you sure? Kowalski always seemed thick-skinned."

"I know right?" Marlene heaves a sigh, propping herself on her paws once again, "I think…OH. What if, Roger what if he thinks I'm playing tricks with Skipper?"

"I…don't think so, Marlene."

The otter bites her lip turning so her feet graze the cold concrete floor; she feels absolutely confused and lost about the entire situation, "You're probably right."

Roger puts a delicate hand on her shoulder, "You want muffins?" Marlene turns her head to catch Roger's eye, grateful, "What kind?"

Roger smiles kindly, "Blueberries, cranberries, banana nuts!"

--

In the end they gorge with sugary treats and Roger tells her of a neat way to get back in Kowalski's good graces. Music the great unifier. _Their_ great unifier.

She admits to having no control of her body, she's excited and she's missed feeling like she does now, she's bursting through the penguins' door eager to see him again.

"Hey! Kowalski," she nods to Private and Rico embarrassed to not remember they also live with Kowalski, "you'll never guess what I just fou—"

"Sorry Marlene, busy today."

"Oh," her good mood and energy swiftly leaves her but she is not discouraged yet, "well, okay, how about tomor—"

"Tomorrow too. It's dangerous here for civilians; please exit the premises at your earliest convenience."

Marlene visibly deflates, "Civilian? Is that what you think of —"

"Private, please escort Marlene out."

"Kowals—you're kicking me out?"

"Sorry Marlene." She deftly avoids Private's flipper and manages to stand in front of Kowalski.

"But," She doesn't understand why he's freezing her out, but she's suddenly aware of how close they are and how intently he's trying to avoid her gaze. When she runs her paw over his wing, he blinks at her and the tension there melts.

"You smell funny." He suddenly blurts, which startles her. Her social instincts kick in as she tries to salvage herself without actually lying, and wrapping her arms around herself self-consciously. The smell of sardines must of have stuck to her fur despite her attempt to wash it off.

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well. Okay." She says again. They stare uncertainly at each other until Private pokes her side.

"Um—" Private looks at her apologetically. At least. She sighs.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving, just give me a sec. I have something for—"

"Marlene, perfect! Just the otter I wanted to see. Follow me."

Reflexively she catches Kowalski's eyes but in a flash he's on the other side of the room setting things up again. Unreasonably disappointed, Marlene looks back at Skipper's retreating back.

--

It's not that she wants to do it, and he certainly rolls his eyes at her, but she does any way. Marlene frets over Skipper's wounds. She 'tsks' noticing black smudges around the edges of the white bandages; he's obviously skimping on his well being. Again.

"What is it?" Marlene asks tapping his flipper once and motioning upwards with her paw, he obediently lifts it up so she can rearrange the bandage slipping off place. She really tries to not notice the large scar it was covering. Idly she wonders if his feather will cover said scar, or if it will now be just another characteristic to add to his superiority complex.

"It's about…us." Her shoulders stiffen at the words. Panic bubbles in her. She doesn't want to be rejected again. She's. She made another stupid mistake; she was such an idiot, such an idiot thinking Skipper would—she feels lightheaded, boneless; the burn of tears. She tries to calm down. It was a mistake and nothing else.

"Oh?"

"Marlene, I hope you don't mind—"

"If it is about the kiss, forget it. It was nothing. I mean, of course it was something, but I got caught up in the moment you know? It's just that feelings don't go away over night, and I was glad you were okay and I really just kind of acted stupidly, but don't worry it was nothing at all! In fact, I should really apologize for even doing that. Never going to happen again, promise! So…um, sorry."

"Right. Of course, of course. Right."

"So—"

"Er, right."

She hates silence, she hates the uncomfortable tension between Skipper and herself, she hates the uncertainty she keeps bringing on herself. So she asks, "We're still friends right?"

"We _are_ friends, Marlene." Skipper smiles proudly at her and then dismisses her in such a manner she almost thinks he's trying to get rid of her, but his words make her sigh in relief nonetheless.

As she steps out of the penguin's habit, with hasty good-byes from both Private and Rico (and she's not looking at Kowalski, so) she tries to rationalize what just happened.

She sighs. Marlene recognizes the fake optimism behind Skipper's comment far too late and for a long time she stares at nothing wondering why she's so relieved about the entire thing in the first place.

Weren't rejection and self-sabotage supposed to be bad things?

--

"When I least expect it, I find myself next to your weirdness." Marlene huffs at Kowalski, but he's completely uncaring of her statement. She'd be upset but she's so glad he turned up in her habitat even if later he admitted he was blackmailed by Roger but that's okay and she owes Roger a huge favor. She's indescribably happy. She has nothing to celebrate with, but he seems willing to ignore that fact.

"Birds of a feather flock together, you know." Kowalski says spinning a CD with his flipper before setting it down and getting his notepad out once again. She leans over his shoulder to see his notes. They're gibberish to her, of course, but it's nice to see him not attempting to mold into the wall when she leaned too close anymore. Kind of. Not really.

"Yeah, huh, I'm not a bird. What does that say about me?"

"I don't know. Scientifically speaking, you are an anomaly."

"Yeah, thanks." She says sarcastically, bumping her shoulder lightly against his arm. She can see the edge of a smile on his face, but it's directed up, away from her. He quickly goes through his notes finding a clean page, his pencil moving about energetically.

"What are you doing?"

"It's my duty, as a penguin of science, to investigate anomalies."

"That's not as cute as you'd think."

"Forgive me; it did sound 'cooler' in my head." He doesn't even pause to look at her, still scribbling into his notebook furiously.

"What, what are you doing now?"

"I am fitting you into my schedule."

Fitting…into his. She takes a deep breath despite her left eye developing an annoying tick, "Why?"

"Well...Skipper said you and him were involv…he won't...allow this to continue without proper...validation."

"Oh. Okay." They both pause and stare blandly at the wall in front of them. The tension between them, at the mere mention of Skipper, feels likes its suffocating her. What a terrible way to crush someone's spirit. And good mood.

"Unless, you don't want...me to?"

She glances at him, and then back at the spot in front of her she still hadn't covered with a painting. Kowalski is cute, even if he's a complete and utter dork, but he diffuses the tension easily.

"You're not as cute as you'd like to believe, but I guess you're not bad company either."

He nods once. With nothing better to do, and silence was never really her thing, she stretches as she makes a flippant comment, "I just wish you were more spontaneous--we never do anything fun."

Kowalski doesn't say anything, doesn't pause in his work. She sulks as she leans back into the wall. After a moment of thought, she lays hers head against him because it makes him uncomfortable. Kowalski never says anything about it now though.

Marlene catches Kowalski staring at her once again, but she can never pin point his expression before he turns away.

She rolls her eyes and pokes his side, _hard_. Kowalski cries out in pain dropping his pencil and swatting her offending paw away.

Glowering, she lifts his wing "I knew you were hurt!"

"It's fine as long as it is not prodded—OUCH! Stop." He grabs her paw accidentally yanking too hard, she glares at him.

"Please. Desist." Kowalski says apologetically.

She sighs turning her paw so she's the one cradling his flipper, "What's wrong?"

"I am afraid I don't follow." He quickly slips his limb away from her grasp, opting to bend awkwardly and retrieve his fallen pencil.

Marlene rolls her eyes once again, "Turn around."

"What?"

Marlene turns him around harshly, mindful of the pressure she put on the back of his head, "You should have this bandaged, and here too, on the back of your shoulder. And here, here, and here. Kowalski, who are you trying to fool? You can't even walk right anymore, you hold your pencil and notebook all weird and you've been very, very irritating, although I question if that's just because of your injuries."

"…You noticed?"

"Of cour. How could I not, Kowalski?" She noticed the second he came back from his mission; she had priorities though and he didn't exactly stop her from going to Skipper. Marlene doesn't meet his gaze.

"Let me go borrow Rico's first aid kit so I can at least put some salve on your shoulder. That looks like a really nasty wound, why are you even trying to hide this? I'm sure Private and Rico already made a fuss."

"Rico treated my wounds and was mindful of his work. However, I've found that the bandages slow me down. It is essential for me to have access to both my wings if I—"

"Blah blah blah, take a break you idiot." He visibly brittles at her and it is such a satisfying sight she almost smiles.

"I cannot."

"You can too. Besides what good will you be if you don't take care of yourself?"

"Marlene, I…can't."

"Why?"

"I need to do calculations, I have a lot of work to do, and I've fallen behind in a lot of my research. How is the team supposed to work without my options? I'm the options guy."

"Take. A. Break." She scurries around her habitat, looking for things to help Kowalski and his injuries ignoring every single argument he throws at her.

Things in arms, she stands in front of Kowalski, she looks at the ground shyly before meeting his curious gaze, "You're only hurting yourself and besides…I missed you."

The silence that settles between them is so loud and oppressive she feels like she's literally drowning.

"And-and you still haven't made it up to me."

"My apologies. I will remedy the inconvenience as soon as possible." Kowalski stands and hastily walks right past her.

"Kowalski what...?"

"I should go."

"No wait, why?"

"I need to run a few experiments and it's getting late."

Excuse! Marlene blocks the exit as well as she can with the things in her arms but he's faster and much more limber than she is despite his injuries, which obviously means he sidesteps her with incredible ease. In an instant, she drops her things as she instinctively lunges for his back.

Kowalski stumbles for a second hissing in pain, she flinches in guilt, but he swiftly regains his balance. Marlene feels the tension between them, but it worries her that she's shaking so much.

The adrenaline rushing in her veins make her limbs feel limp and useless, but she's somehow still holding on, or holding back Kowalski who so far has said nothing about her being a pestering fool and it bothers her because, because Kowalski always has _something_ to say and now it's like she truly doesn't know him anymore.

She's desperate to grasp for something, anything, an excuse of her own, "You promised! Mission…Mission Funday! You still owe me. You can't just—" can't what?

"You can't _abandon_ it now."

Kowalski carefully steps away putting distance between them. He glances back at her and then looks forward so she can't see his face anymore.

"I will not."

---

Despite her firm belief otherwise… Kowalski visits her again the next day. He has a deck of card in one hand and a CD in another and things feel like they're coming together again. This time, when she leans too close he leans away and reprimands her on the etiquette of personal space and whatever. Marlene practically tackles him when he starts grumbling about her getting the composers names wrong, and when she asks about his newest experiment he launches into a long, tedious, and convoluted explanation; it sounds like foreign poetry to her untrained ears.

She's glad he's not upset anymore. Which is suspicious. Marlene asks him why the change of heart.

Kowalski says he's attempting to become more 'extemporaneous'. As far as she's concerned everything around the penguins is like that. Quick, thoughtless, and with a touch of ironic insanity. But really she's privately thrilled he's taking her advice. And he's wearing bandages across his torso and wings.

He later ruined her excitement when admitted this was another one of Rogers' idea, but at least this time it wasn't because he was being blackmailed! Rico insisted on the bandages though.

She raised an eyebrow and tossed a licked lollipop at him, and this time instead of brushing it off, he retaliated with chewed gum. She had shrieked, and tossed a handful of candy at it him until it escalates into a full out candy-throwing war. Which he won since he was a cheater, cheater.

It was such a nice, normal, change of pace for them that when Kowalski realized what he was doing he apologized at once and immediately retreated into his usual intelligent bravado picking up the littered candy and placing it in the bag.

Marlene resisted the urge to sigh wiping off some of the stickiness in her fur and sitting on the chair she was on before.

"So, where did you go for your mission?" She's been wondering for a long while now.

"Classified." Mrlene literally deflates until half her body is across the table and over the discarded cards.

"You're just as bad as Skipper! You know I'm not going to tell anyone, trust me!" She pouts giving him a half-hearted glare.

"I do, er _we_ do trust you, but… if you were caught by one of our enemies you could be tortured for intel."

"I wouldn't say anything, even then."

"That's what we fear."Marlene's taken back by Kowalski's brazen honesty. It piques her interest.

"Was it sunny?"

"Classified."

"Rainy?" He gives her a look that clearly means he's exasperated and he's not about to crack either.

"Oh come on!" Kowalski always manages to kill their (well, mostly her) fun one way or another.

She sits straight up, outraged, "You know I worry about you guys! You think it's fair to see you all bandaged up and, and totally unaware of what happened, or, or how to help!?"

"Our missions are not about fairness."

She 'humphs' crossing her arms, slinking down in her seat and sulking. Kowalski taps the table three times and then grabs the cards between them. He sets to shuffling them in intricate, complicated ways she would be impressed with but she's upset, damn it!

He deals the cards then picks up his own hand. She snatches hers and glares at her lousy hand.

"It was sunny." Marlene's head snaps up so fast she almost gives herself whiplash. She stares, astonished, at him.

"Did…did you like it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Classi…homesick." Its Kowalski's awkward way of saying…he missed. The zoo. He missed the zoo.

She can't help the smile on her face. When she looks at him, a weird, crawling sensation on her stomach bubbles, warm and comforting, and new and she's sort of nervous too but it's a happy feeling, so she rolls with it.

"I kind of missed seeing you guys train." Translation: I missed you too. Being in the zoo, that is.

"How did Skipper get his wounds, anyway?"

"Classified."

"And yours?"

"Also classified."

"Did you meet anyone interesting?"

"Classified, Marlene—" He grunts, cutting off, "Goading me will not yield the results you wish."

"Yeah, well I got you a gift."

"Classified." He pauses glowering at her for his mistake, she sticks her tongue out at him. Then, he asks, "You did?"

"Yeah. You're surprisingly naive, Kowalski."

He's splutters, offended. "I'm no such thing. If I recall correctly, that title belongs to you."

"Okay." But she still smiles at him despite his resentment, "I can share the title."

"I'd rather not."

He deals the cards proficiently. Marlene places her chin on her paw, elbow bent and set on the table they were sharing, studying him. It's weird how at home he looks in her habitat now. He used to fret a lot when he first started visiting her; most of her things are now fully functional thanks to him and his restlessness.

He's changed. Not drastically, she couldn't see Kowalski be anyone other than…Kowalski. But Kowalski used to be much more reserved, he has more random scientific-related (and even non-scientific-related ones too, ones she could join him with) outbursts now. He's more easily angered too. No that's not right. She's just learned to push the right buttons. It's easy to set him off now; she does it because he's always trying so hard to be cool and collected. She likes to see his façade slip a little, to see Kowalski be…Kowalski.

She wonders if maybe she's changed too. Couldn't be much because her mind goes back the day she was first introduced to Rock-My-Socks-Off. She retrieves the CD Roger gave her and hands it to him quelling the incessant need to squeal in excitement. He examines it for a second, and then beams recognizing who it is, thanking her in the process. She frowns a little.

"Hey, Kowalski…have you ever been in love?"

This time instead of ignoring the question, or avoiding it, he contemplates his answer tapping his flipper rhythmically on the edge of the table; the smile and laugh breaks out before she can help it.

"Yes." He finally says openly rolling his eyes at her sudden fit of giggles. She wonders if he thinks she's being an immature and typical female when it came to romance, she wonders a lot of things about him now.

"Three times." He says actively staring at his cards; it's as if they held an important truth she'd never understand.

"Oh." She's not trying to be immature but she suddenly wants to throw a fit. Because she doesn't remember why she had been so desperate to know about it in the first place. Knowing just…really annoys her.

"Me too." She nearly grunts, putting down a card and picking up another. He gave her another bad hand.

"Only three times?"

"Surprised?" She stares wide eye up at him. Kowalski shrugs carelessly, taking another card. She takes the hint.

Marlene distracts herself with her own set of cards. It's just like the first time she truly interacted with Kowalski, the first time she saw how considerate he really is, and just like then she was still not doing very well. She puts her cards next to Kowalski. He smiles understandingly for a second and rearranges her cards so she has an actual chance to win. Marlene smiles back.

"So, do they have names?"

"Yes." He says sharply, humor gone from his voice.

Marlene again frowns for a second and then lays her cards down. Kowalski looks at them, then at her, then at his own cards, then at her again.

"I win." He states, warily.

Surely he knows she knows, but Marlene just wanted him to lay down his cards too, in more ways than one, of course.

"Are you…still in love with her? With Doris, I mean."

"Dor—? Yes." Kowalski glances at her and then sets to gathering the cards to deal once again, "I am in love with her."

"But what about, uh Rico?"

"He is unhurt. And he's doing well with Doll." She can almost hear the tag "lucky bastard" at the end of the statement.

Kowalski's sense of humor is still very dark and very self-deprecating, and she doesn't know how to comment in regards to it or his pent-up jealousy towards Rico.

After all, there has been a spike of uncomfortable silence between them recently, like they need to step around each other because there's some buried metal explosives about to go off if they're not careful. It's as if every comment was barbed, hurtful, insensitive, or just…something neither wanted to acknowledge. How is she supposed to reassure him of love when she doesn't even know how to reassure herself of their friendship?

And since he's being honest and she teetering on the edge of it.

"I kissed Skipper!" She's an otter of action. Subtlety lost on her. She fails at being careful. Marlene lets Skipper and Kowalski do that for her for a reason, even if sometimes she questions their wisdom.

Despite the sudden, but unsurprising, shift back to awkward, stifling silence between them again, the admission is like a breath of fresh air to her even if at the same time she feels like she's tying her own noose around her neck and stepping onto an execution platform. Marlene taps her paws together, "He, um, he still rejected me, though."

"I'm sorry."

She holds Kowalski's stare, "Its fine. I mean, I will be. I think."

Part of her feels strange even considering it, however she does not like self-denial too much: she's kind of jealous. Kowalski is a trooper, always considering his options and plowing ahead. She never does and when she's struck down it takes her a while to recover. She never has a plan "B", never thinks twice. She lives on instincts and intuition, everything, every move is an impulse, and now she sees Kowalski trying, once again, to move on, to get over Doris and rejection, while she steps back and tries to calm the rushing feeling of failure in the pit of her gut.

For the rest of the evening, even though she thinks things are okay, it's clear they're not, and Marlene's unsure of how to handle them anymore. She wonders how Kowalski handles it. She needs the advice. Or the distraction. Or, or whatever it is that he does with rejection and unrequited love.

He starts throwing around random puns when he notices her sour mood shift, and when he says "You mean _otter_-ly brilliant?" As the answer to a terrible, horrible, never to be repeated joke…she laughs until tears run down her cheeks.

Things aren't okay, they aren't. Kowalski's trying though. And her?

(She's still in pretend land. It's no fun there by herself.)

--

"Marlene, this is of utmost importance."

"Is this about feet again?" Last week Julien stepped on a thorn and everyone suffered with him.

"No. But thank you for your concern." He grins a little at her before he drops his smile to look at her forlornly, "I have... changed my mind. Whatever you did made the crazy penguin crazier. I order you to make it right again. My subjects cannot fulfill their duty with him pestering everyone."

What's weird about the request is how _kingly_ Julien looks as he says it, like she almost buys his self-deception because everyone is deeply serious and grim and looking at her expectantly. Well there's that and the fact she's willingly standing in front of Julien. _Again._ And that he knows what the word 'pester' means since…it always seemed like something he'd totally latch on to as a self-description. With a healthy amount of obliviousness thrown in.

Still, _"Why?"_

"What do you mean _why?"_ Maurice asks, seething, apparently he's been at the receiving end of Skipper's moodiness. Julien joins in Maurice's anger, and Mort, unwillingly to be left out starts jumping exclaiming 'why!' repeatedly.

Julien promptly shuts Mort with a punt kick before turning to her, "Marlene, how can I shake my kingly bootie if he keeps coming over and _moping_ over you and your Cow. Not that _I _care of course and don't think I will take you back when your cow goes away. That Loud Human will find out about him eventually, you know."

Marlene chooses to ignore his last two statements. "Moping? Me and Kowalski?"

"Yes. And it is most insufferable. Something or other about a 'dollface Lola'. I assumed it was me, but then it wouldn't make sense because, me and your Cow are not buddies-buddies. And my name is most certainly not Lola. But I like it, very exotic, kinda like me! Anyway. Fix the problem so _I_ can enjoy my days like I once used to. That is all, you can go now. Shoo."

She wants to yell at him for his idiocy and trying her last nerve, but she had no energy for it. She hasn't had energy for much. Guilt has a way of doing that to you. Marlene looks up at Julien. Rejection is not fun either and well, rejection is not fun period.

"Sorry Julien." She wonders if he understands what the apology is for since he stares at her, with an expression she can't place, for a long while until Maurice coughs into his fist.

He says, "Whatever" but she wants to believe that's as close as he'll get to: "I forgive you."

--

Marlene must be predictable despite her claims of being a spontaneous individual because when she attempts to storm into the penguin's place Kowalski's immediately there to intercept her and guide her towards his work area.

"I'm glad you could make it, Marlene." He looks _hard_ at her (well more like glared at her), then at Skipper, "I need her for assistance?"

And because she's momentarily distracted, her anger dissipates into annoyance. She gawks up at Kowalski incredulously, why is he asking a question when he's trying to lie? Some people should just stick to honesty. Honestly.

"Yeah." She says aware of Kowalski's attempt to save her of possible humiliation. Again. (Unfortunately).

Not that it's a surprise. Skipper keeps avoiding her, which is annoying since she's only trying to. Well, she's not sure what she's trying to do except maybe hurt herself. And Skipper.

Skipper nods at them both with thinly veiled disapproval before he attempts to leave. He raises a brow at both of them and shakes his head.

"Have fun." He says disdainfully. Then he's gone.

Marlene doesn't meet Kowalski's questioning glare. She bristles indignantly at the spot Skipper used to occupy.

"Julien wants me to talk to Skipper." It's a weird sentence. Kowalski seems to agree, she catches him as he recoils in confusion and disgust.

Marlene starts pacing trying to distract herself, to give her legs an outlet before she does something, like run after "Stupid, stupid—"

"Testosterone. It's, I mean. It's testosterone."

"Kowalski. I don't—" she deflates for a second, then "what's testosterone?"

"Er, the reason Skipper is acting like this?"

"You know, where I'm from we called it jealousy."

"Of course that's the pedestrian name, you see jealousy is a mixture of complex interaction between chemicals the brain releases into the circulatory system via the endocrine system, the endocrine...system?" he cocks his head to the side looking away, "You don't…really _care_, do you?"

"Not right now. First I have to find Skipper." She continues walking at a steady pace Kowalski can also match. They don't go far—his flipper on her shoulder startles her so much she actually grabs it by pure instinct. They both stare at where their limbs connect before she reluctantly lets go of him and he of her.

Awkwardly, because it feels like she's burning up which is strange since the weather has turned rather cold these day, she shifts so she can face Kowalski better and gather her breath again, why is she so out of breath anyway?

"What—"

"Marlene," Kowalski interrupts her, "you'll have to," he sighs defeated, as if accepting something that was inevitable, as if he's decided on something she can't seem to grasp because _she's_ never really been able to grasp Kowalski, and her anger towards Skipper starts to seep into her annoyance at Kowalski, "you'll have to excuse Skipper's actions. He's...been through a messy relationship and he's not sure how to handle a new one."

"So?"

"So?" He blinks at her, apparently shocked by her apathy, "He's afraid of getting hurt!"

"Yeah? Well he's not the only one!"

Her breath hitches a little as her words bounce off the metal surrounding them. Kowalski stands frozen in front of her, an unreadable—closed-off—expression on his face, and it bothers her because _he_ should know about unrequited love right? _Andand_ whatever.

Marlene doesn't know what to do, or how to stop, but suddenly she's just blabbering, "I mean he always acts so, so _weirdly_ around me, and I thought we, we could, but he, but he rejec—not that it matters obviously—and then there was that kis—not that _that _matters either—but I really, I really like him Kowalski, I like…Kowalski, I, nonono, I...I_...I__loveSkipper_."

Marlene cringes, covers her mouth mortified because that's not what she had meant to say. Her throat burns, and she's trembling, and she feels like the ground under her has been yanked out.

She looks down (to make sure the ground has not in fact decided it no longer wanted to be stepped on and thus left), unwilling, unable, to meet Kowalski's intense gaze.

"It doesn't matter anyway."

Her eyes sting but she refuses to acknowledge it, only bunches her shoulders and storms off back home even though it feels wrong and unnatural, and like she's just betrayed Kowalski (Kowalski who has done nothing but support her during Skipper-induced-weirdness, Kowalski who indulged her, Kowalski who she, honest-to-goodness, likes. Kowalski who she avoids when he reaches out to her).

Again.

Mission Funday is delayed until further notice.

--

Inside the semi-safety of her own home she contemplates things. The meaning of life, the outside world. Kowalski, Skipper, love and her own actions. Except it's all a lie, her mind swims with too many incoherent thoughts, foggy, muddy, stupid, and she's not even sure what it is that she's confused, or _hurt_ about.

But. "I love Skipper." She says to the darkness. It doesn't respond—it's still, quiet, cold, and she misses Kowalski's analytical obtuseness for that one desperate moment. Her heart beats in her ears, dull and monotonous and she remembers that self-sabotage is, indeed, a terrible thing to do.

"I love Skipper." She repeats with breaking determination. Then, she recalls the stone at the bottom of her pond.

* * *

A/N: We're at the end folks. One more chapter. This particular chapter was written with _Wonderwall,_ by Oasis, playing on repeat and family drama. Actually most of this story's chapters have a certain song attached to them. Music is my Airplane /music geekiness.

This story has over 1000 views. That is pretty epic right there! Thanks everyone who's read so far!

R&R, please. I love,_ love,_ feedback.


	8. That Ninety Eight Percent

A/N: The end.

Dedicated to Monsy 38 and everyone who is reading, has reviewed, and favorite this story. If it wasn't for all of you, I would of have never finished it. Trust me. I have a goldfish's attention span. Which is only 5 seconds if food is not involved.

I must apologize for the two year hiatus on this story, especially since I am one of those people who hate when an author suddenly leaves their story! I've always had it on my hardrive, but could not bring myself to post it. Long story short, I finally decided it was time to finish the story and give closure to the people who once read this. Someday, I will go and edit the previous chapters since the site has smushed things together.

Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 9: That Ninety-eight percent

* * *

"Trouble in paradise?" Kowalski's comment is cutting; Marlene looks away, arms crossed. She has to remember he's at least talking to her after she stormed off, ignored him for nearly a week, and then bullied Rico and Private to leave so he could into talk to her without any interruptions. Skipper was innocuously absent.

He crosses his flippers imitating her, a brow raised expectantly. _This should be good_, it tell hers. She wonders if he's waiting for an apology.

Marlene gathers herself, and her courage, putting her paws on her hips. She has _nothing_ to apologize about because, "I love Skipper."

"I know." It's too quick an answer, albeit, she should of have not counted on anything else from him. A silence follows where Kowalski contemplates his next words carefully while she mutely tries not to turn and walk away in embarrassment. His next words stun her: "Everyone knows."

Marlene fights the wish for the earth to open up and bury her, a shocked combination of a gargle, squeak, and gasp escaping her, "_Everyone?"_

"Yes. You have been quite…obvious about your romantic inclinations regarding Skipper."

"O-oh." OH. He's throwing her words back at her to boot!

She flushes. The earth isn't opening up and swallowing her so she has to deal with being humiliated. In front of Kowalski. It matters very much to her that his opinion of her is not _Love struck Idiot._ Even though she is.

Kowalski clears his throat as he fumbles with his next words. Articulate long-winded Kowalski struggling with wording his thoughts. It's such a rare sight she kind of stares, which is not helpful at all. It just enhances his tongue-tied-y-ness.

Unsurprisingly, Kowalski is incapable of speaking about feelings, emotions, relationships, past missions _and_ he gets stage-fright. Like everyone else. It's such a sobering thought—Kowalski is _just_ like everyone else, he's just happens to be more intelligent than everyone else. She doesn't know if this normalcy is nice or absolutely devastating.

"Why…aren't you telling Skipper this?" He finally asks. Translation: why are you telling _me_?

It's such a legitimate question it snaps Marlene out of her observations. Her mind suddenly goes blank when it can't find a proper response. It leaves her staring at him again, mouth agape; nothing but a confused squeak flows out of her.

She doesn't know, doesn't even know why she's standing around discussing this with Kowalski of all animals. She doesn't know why he's the first one that she goes to inform of this new fact instead of, of Roger, or Skipper himself. Her feet just dragged her here and her brain went into autopilot with the rest.

Then she remembers something she once really believed with her entire heart. "You're my kindred spirit, Kowalski."

Kowalski, who had been leaning towards her slightly, stiffens, spine straight, face turned, staring off to the side once again.

"Irony is a funny thing." Kowalski has a sharp smile on his face when he looks back at her, one that makes her feel like she's the enemy, and maybe she is but it doesn't mean she wants to admit it.

"What's irony got to—"

He cuts her off waving a flipper, "I am afraid I've not been successful in my attempts with the role, Marlene."

What attempts? She racks her brain trying to find instances, but, strangely enough, comes up blank.

"Oh, well, that's okay it's not like you have to do anything really."

"Of course, that's in theory. It's important to always try out theories with different hypothesis."

"A hippo?" Kowalski's struggles suppressing a grin. She purses her lips hoping to do the same, happy to see she can still making him smile. She'd almost forgotten what that was like.

"A _hypo_-Thesis. A proposal intended to explain observations." "So then, you're not my…" Kowalski is amazing, he really is. He knows how to build all sorts of things and destroy the mood all without blinking once. "No. I don't believe I am." He's very, very good with that. "That's okay, I guess." It's not. It's like she just lost a limb, or…or like when she first confessed to Skipper, except this kind of feels worse.

"However, I wanted to let you know—"

"Yeah?" She asks far too quickly. He misses a beat, and suddenly he's struggling with his words once again and it gives her a boost of undeserving hope.

"I-We're still—Operation Funday is still a go."

That was not what she had wanted to hear.

"Oh. Great!"

Right. Great

They stand in front of each other as strangers once again. They don'tsmile at one another.

Status Quo is king.

.-.

The sewer has become her second home these days. Roger is nice, her friend, but he's not a miracle worker and even he's getting tired of her moping on his couch.

"Why don't you just admit it?" Roger is also tired of her floundering mistakes.

"I don't have anything to admit, Roger. I'm just…confused."

Roger frowns at her disapprovingly, "Alright. Why don't you try being _un_confused with Skipper, then?"

Marlene balks at the idea. Speak with Skipper. Skipper!

.-.

Skipper…

Skipper is an insufferable jerk. "I can see you, you know."

"Bah, stupid bandages slowing me down, I'll have Rico remove them tomorrow. What can I do for you, Marlene?"

She can do fake-normalcy. "Oh, not much, just, you know. STOP AVOIDING ME!"

Okay, maybe she can't.

"Marlene I am a soldier, a once prisoner of war! I've done many things in my life, but avoidin—"

"Private told me about your fear of needles, so shut up."

"Well. Private has just earned himself latrine duty for a month."

"I love you."Skipper snaps his head in her direction, his face betrays no emotion. Except maybe a wary raised brow.

Cautiously she steps towards him. When he makes no move to bolt, she bows her head.

Gently, trying to keep the tone in her voice steady, she says, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to play with your emotions. I really do love you, Skipper, but…I'm not in love with you."

The room spins wildly as she tries to control her breathing, the burning of her eyes. She doesn't understand why she keeps breaking down in front of him. Skipper lays a flipper on her shoulder.

"Don't cry Marlene, it's unsightly."

She still does anyway until she's pressing her face against his chest, hiccupping and trailing snot all over his bandages and feathers, and he's soothing, sweet, and understanding. Why couldn't he have done this in the first place before she made a stupid deal with Kowalski, and that stupid car?

He says it's not his policy to do the 'comfort' thing, but he'll bend the rules for her.

It sets her off again until she almost falls asleep. In her stupor, she swears Skipper told her he knew what she meant, but she's also pretty sure she's insane. He'd just patted her on the head and let her stay and watch trashy T.V. with Rico and Private. Kowalski ends up taking her back home.

He says nothing.

.-.

Kowalski stays with her, doesn't ask questions and smiles grimly when she catches him staring. This, like so many other things has changed; he no longer averts his eyes or tries to cover with scientific jargon.

"Better?" He ask in a voice that is strictly medical and professional, and he's leaving before she can even answer.

Panic sets her body running after him.

"Kowalski." She says tersely. When he looks at her she holds out the green rock he gave her. He looks at it with a mixture of disdain, uncertainty. Accusingly. She used to think emotions on Kowalski's face were weird. She just wasn't used to them, wasn't used to him. She is now.

He's become too essential, too ingrained in her life. She can't freaking stand the music the zoo plays on special occasions because it reminds her of stupid but purposeful malapropisms, socks, and sugar, and of 'maybes' and 'almosts', and missed opportunities and of course of how easy it is to make him happy, and how easy it is to annoy him, and he's _every_where she looks in her home now.

He, despite his compulsive perfectionism, used to forget things there all the time she never told him about because it was nice to see him reach out and grab said object and put it back in its place as if it always belonged there. He has a special corner he always sits at and now she joins him whenever he plants himself there, and then there is her radio which she can't figure out, and.

She bounces the rock lightly in her paw. Kowalski mutely tracks the rock's ascend and descend, and then she closes her paws into a fist trapping it. His gaze does not leave her paw.

"_You_ didn't make it up to me."

"What?" He snaps his head, narrowed eyes trained on hers. Finally.

Marlene turns and as hard as she can, she flings the small stone. It crosses over the pond; it goes up and then disappears over a wall.

Kowalski turns to her but his response is filtered off by, "OW! Who threw that?"

Cringing, they both hide behind a rock, Kowalski's flipper over her so she's pressed against his side, his face just slightly above hers. It's not the most comfortable position she's ever been in…but here, she can hear Kowalski's heartbeat, frantic and fast, and even if they've been crouching for a few seconds her hind legs are starting to tremble from holding her weight so strangely. She doesn't really want to move though.

"Kowalski…" she swears she can't hear his heart beat for a split second, "You still owe me."

He scoffs, "That took forever to find! That specific kind of rock was not native to the area we visited, it had a near perfect circumference plus the right shade of green. I thought you 'loved' it."

"A rock is a rock if there is no meaning to it, Kowalski. You said Skipper helped you with it and…I didn't want Skipper's gift." He pulls back so now he can face her better. She frowns up at him. "That means you still owe me."

"You're being unreasonably selfish." The sarcasm is not lost on her.

"So? You promised."

Finally he sighs, understandingly. Marlene beams up at him as he peeks so no one is looking their way. Sure that they're in the clear, he straightens and helps her up.

"Come on," She orders taking his flipper into her paw (it's slick and rough, and cold, and familiar, and strong, and she grabs unto it tighter because suddenly she feels like she's a step away from falling, and she kind of wants to but not by herself), but he stops her just before they make it through the threshold to her refuge. She mourns the death of Opportunity Not Taken.

"What about Skipper?" He asks stiffly.

"What about him?"

"You're exacerbating the situation!"

Which situation?

"Kowalski. Does Skipper have _anything _to worry about?" Because honestly. There isn't. Actually there hasn't been anything for Skipper to worry about for a long, long time, not since he put a clamp on both their emotions and it's been over for a long time now. It just took her a bit to realize it.

But, Kowalski cringes before he turns to look at her except he doesn't and then he starts tapping his flipper nervously against his side, it has a rhythm she doesn't immediately recognize and she resists the urge to ask which composer it is this time. It must be something his brain does to compensate for his current lack of notebook, and he's not always comfortable when someone points out his flaws.

Resolutely Kowalski looks right past her shoulder before meeting her curious gaze, hesitantly he says, "I am Skipper's subordinate. His well being, mental or otherwise a responsibility I take great pride in adhering to and maintaining."

Kowalski's eyes lose their hardened edge, becomes much less uncertain, his words less practiced; her heart thrums wildly in her ears, her fur standing on end, "Unfortunately, there...may be a two percent chance he does." He frowns, and tries to clarify, "Have something to…worry about. Er, regarding…us, and uh, e_mo_tions."

Marlene's clasp on his flipper tightens. She doesn't want to recognize the small thrill in her gut is pleasant, or nice, or anything like that or how her heart skipped a beat, or how she can't help smiling plaintively or else she'll be more naive and stupid than she had once believed and, "And shouldn't you, a scientist, explore any and all possibilities no matter how small?"

He smiles a little at the repentance of their conversation; she supposes it's their thing now too, before sobering up, "It's not the same thing."

"No. It's not."

Close enough.

When she pulls his wing, he follows. And when she pretends he didn't confess, he readily follows the cue. And when he says this mission meets her earlier demands, thus the last thing he'd do for her, maybe she's trying to pretend she's okay with heartbreak.

.-.

"Thank you."

Roger wraps his arms around her. Months earlier she would of have thought he was attempting to eat her. Now she's just sobbing into the scaly arms because, because she thinks she messed up again.

"You want another muffin?"

Marlene nods because her voice will betray her. She stills tries though, "Thank you."

("What an odd otter you are, Marlene.")

.-.

It's Funday, two thirty-two in the morning, too early for anyone to not be asleep, too late for anyone to really still be awake. There is an air of finality surrounding her right now. Once Kowalski fulfills his end of the bargain they never have to really do anything together again, and there's hollowness in the pit of her stomach (eerily similar to the night when Skipper practically told her there's was never going to be an _Us_, except this is a million times more frighteningly overwhelming and galvanizing).

She waits at her door for Kowalski to come by, he's thirty minutes late which makes her stomach twist around what feels like a cold lump of iron while her minds runs over every possible scenario.

He got caught.

Skipper will have his head on a silver platter! He'll never see daylight ever again; he'll be shipped to Antarctica! She should of have never let this go on! She could never live with the guilt, and, and, and if he goes to Antarctica how is she, and him, and how would they even—

Kowalski pops out of nowhere prompting a stifled, horrified, gasp from her. "Kowalski?" she hisses, voice slightly strangled. Her heart is in her throat and she's almost chocking on it.

"Marlene. Sorry for my tardiness."

"What happened? Did you get caught?" She immediately fusses over to him, looks under both his flippers, then grabs his face twisting it both ways expecting a wire, or wounds, or something (Skipper—the name alone makes her want to sigh tiredly but she resists—has gotten so under her skin she's becoming paranoid too).

"Of course not." Kowalski lets her examine him until she's satisfied. She drops her paws but doesn't step away from him. Instead Marlene looks up at him expectantly, because she's not an otter that enjoys being kept in suspense, or worrying, or anything like that. Or where that last train of thought of hers was going.

"Preparations for tonight required more time than I had anticipated."

"Oh." She replies, and then slaps him on the shoulder as hard as she can, "You had me worried, don't do it again!"

"Ow." He rubs the sore spot, a slightly put off frown on his face, "I shall make future endeavors to not do so, Marlene."

It's such a stupid thing, such an off-handed sarcastic comment. But, right now at the very moment, it means the world to her. Because. Future and Endeavors are not final, and she's not sure she wants to see _Possibility_ slipping away from her again, "Good. I'm glad."

He raises a confused brow at her, "Uh, great?"

Then there is silence. Uncertainty jitters, not for the first time they're bordering the threshold of something weird and unknown and she's not sure how to tackle it or even verbalize it.

"So..."

"Shall we go?"

Marlene is no coward, but she's stalling again and now she can't stall anymore. There's been a spring in her chest, slowly giving away, and now, it's collapsed, bursts and her mind starts swirling with past insecurities and failures, with hope and wants and silly girlish ideas she tried to stash away neatly in a compartment never to be bothered with again.

"Kowalski?"

"Yes?"

She takes a steadying breath. Here is the threshold again, and this time, she takes the step forward.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry it didn't work out with Doris, and I'm sorry about Skipper, I'm sorry I set this thing up, and I'm sorry I've been such a lousy friend, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry about the rock, and your injuries and being insensitive—"

"Marlene,"

"We can't, we don't have to do this. It was an unfair, selfish request in the first place, and stupid, and-and- it doesn't matter anymore, I don't want it to matter anymore, we don't—" He grabs both her shoulders, but he doesn't shake her. She stops rambling, realizing she's panting. Why now? Why is she panicking _now_?

"There's a 98% chance we'll get caught. A scientist must try any and all possibilities no matter how slim the chance of success."

"Kowal—"

He drops his flippers from her shoulders, "I...will continue with this mission even if you do not accompany me."

"Kowalski," what an idiotic request a joyride on a car is. It snowballed into this weirdness and now she just wants to hug the penguin in front of her but she's not _sure_ if she's allowed to or not, or if she should refuse or not. Or.

Or.

She blinks trying to abate the dread building; Kowalski was trying to reassure her. Even after everything that they've gone through, even when she couldn't be honest to him or Skipper or herself.

He glances around first and then quickly makes his way to the car and climbs into it—her prize, her goal, the catalyst of this mess, black, sleek, painted flames engulfing it artistically. It's beautiful against the starless sky. She runs a paw over the contours of the car and closes her mouth sharply. She's drooling.

From his side of the car Kowalski stares ahead, rigid and composed, and calm. And in a moment of clarity, Marlene realizes something that almost knocks her off her hind legs.

Or rather, she finally eases into it. She can't lie to herself anymore. All the avoidance, all the tension, her rejection of reality itself. Of what was right in front of her because she's a coward. But Marlene, she _likes_ Kowalski.

She likes watching him fumble, catching him off guard. She likes his ticks and his weird impulsivity that he's always trying to suppress with off-beat intelligence and jokes. She likes his eagerness to help, his weird wit and enthusiasm with work scientific or otherwise, and that they share an unhealthy love for candy, and now music, and fast cars. She likes Kowalski when he's across of her spouting nonsense to her about mitochondria and gene-splicing and shiny feathers, and neurons and possible ideas for inventions. She likes Kowalski. Honest to goodness, she _likes _Kowalski.

"Just this once." Kowalski says to fill in for her silence, he's still staring ahead, and his flippers are gripping and un-gripping around the wheel tensely waiting for an answer. Her stomach twists pleasantly.

She likes him.

"Just this once." Marlene agrees, smiling.

She _likes_ him. She thinks, it's a little too late now, isn't it? She climbs the car nonetheless.

.-.

They totally get caught. That Ninety-Eighty Percent Likelihood thing. She's not even surprised.

Kowalski ends up with some bizarre punishment she doesn't bother trying to understand (but everyone else seems to understand), and Skipper gives her the cold shoulder for a grand total of two minutes and then decides that a better punishment is to have random interruptions to her sleep. It is brutal, she learns to accept it because in between those interruptions Skipper starts talking to her again, like they once were and it's nice and somewhat nostalgic, and it gives her this sense of loss she knows is dumb to contemplate at this point because they've lost their chance, one, two, three times too many, and for once it seems like they finally understand each other. She missed him terribly.

Now every once in a while, when Marlene stands next to Kowalski and they accidentally catch each other's eye, there is a sense of commaderice they didn't share before—there's more to it than that now, but. There is no hurry. There will be no hurry. No urgency.

The truth is she's not in love with him. Eventually she will be.

They won't hold hands and there will be no shared kisses nor there be cute names or dates. It will eventually be normal for them. Maybe they won't have a happily-ever-after, but they'll be together and they'll weather his astonishing stupidity with relationships and her blinding stubbornness, and they'll finally be able to say "I love you" without pretending or circumventing around the words, and so maybe this is her own fault, her own downfall, l but it's okay. They're happy in their own ways.

He'll hatch an egg, and she'll have her own litter of baby otters. They'll pretend they're amazing friends even though it's the opposite of what they want until she's transferred back to her old zoo, and even if he tries visiting, it'll be a bit too late. She realizes what a _truly_ stupid request a joyride is. She could of have had anything. She could of have had Kowalski.

And when he shows up in her zoo just to demonstrates a million ways he can break her out, they can go anywhere she wants, anywhere, she just needs to ask, remember like she did all those nights ago, you know? The joyride? Anywhere, just one phrase, anywhereanywhere, Alabama, Antarctica, Atlanta, Atlantis, A through Z. He has the plans, the options. He's the options guy, anywhere but here in her old zoo.

She tells him, "Thank you." And that's the end of thing. Even though all she'll want to do is hold his flipper and leave.

He'll eventually move on (doesn't) and maybe she will too but she doesn't. That's her self-appointed exoneration. Because Kowalski is her kindred spirit even if he denies it. She hopes to someday transcend it.

Abnegation is born from self-awareness and a willingness to accept the truth. It's that two percent.

For now it's. It's nice.

Sort of.

(And they do. That's the best part)

* * *

A/N: Last one of these everyone. Thank you everyone, I wish the written language was a bit more adequate to express how _grateful_ I am to the kind words all of you have shared with me. You all were my muses and motivation. Sorry it took so long to end this ride.

And now, some (fun?) facts for everyone:

I came up with a plot for this story WAY late. I was too lazy to incorporate it. Abnegation means to deny one self. Skipper's abnegation was in chapter 3. Kowalski's was in chapter 6. Marlene was in chapter 8; thus the ending. Despite everything, this fic was mostly for the friendships.

~Blouper


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